


All You Need Is Me, I'm Your Toy

by WhoTheBuckIsStucky



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, fucktoy!Au, this is just a bunch of smut ok listen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:19:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8324098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoTheBuckIsStucky/pseuds/WhoTheBuckIsStucky
Summary: Just an ot12 Exo fucktoy!au fic~ A lot of smut and a lot of fluff because fluff is my favorite to write so you're gonna get it whether you want it or not :D I wanted to do some rarer pairs here, because I feel like these pairs don't always get a lot of love in the fanfic world (You know. It's always Hunhan, Taoris, Baekyeol, Kaisoo...). I really like these pairings, especially for the context of this story. I'm sorry if they're not your OTP. My other exo fic (which I should be posting soon T.T) has the more common ones. You can message me or comment on this fic if you have any ideas/requests/yells! Or, you can find me on my Tumblr here :)





	1. Sutao 1

Junmyeon was the first one out of his friends to purchase a toy, even though Kris was arguably richer, and even though  _literally everyone_ though Kris was going to find his first. But Junmyeon had purchased Tao, a tall toy with soft, dark brown hair and gentle eyes and plush, kitten lips. He had payed an extravagantly expensive amount of money for him, but Junmyeon supposed it was due to the fact that, on top of his good looks, he was also perfectly trained.

 

He first saw Tao at yet another party sponsored by a toy shelter—a place that trained toys and kept them safe until they were sold, or rescued abused toys and helped them recover—from across the room. The instant they locked eyes, Junmyeon felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs.

 

He sidled up to the owner of the shelter. “Excuse me, sir. What is the name of that toy over there, across the room?”

 

“The one in the dark green robes?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“His name is Tao.” The owner looked at Junmyeon out of the corner of his eye. Junmyeon tried to look nonchalant.

 

“And is he… is he for sale?” Junmyeon asked, trying to keep a note of breathless excitement out of his voice.

 

“He is, in fact, for sale.”

 

“I’m… interested,” Junmyeon said. “How much is his starting price?”

 

The owner looked Junmyeon up and down, as if trying to size him up to decide exactly how much he could get out of him, and then named a price that almost made Junmyeon walk away. But as he turned, his gaze slid over Tao, and he was surprised to find Tao just staring at him, almost like he knew. 

 

And so Junmyeon, who hated conflict and was the actual worst at asking for favors, and who had never tried to haggle before in his life, began haggling. And after about five or ten minutes, he had gotten the owner to agree to a slightly less ridiculous price. He gave him the money, and Tao was his.

 

He left the party early that night, even before any of his friends could notice and jeer at him, with Tao on his arm. The toy was very silent on the walk to Junmyeon’s car. Junmyeon sent a quick message to the staff at his house to ready the guest room closest to his. 

 

Junmyeon felt awkward. He liked the idea of having someone to spend time with and all, but he wasn’t exactly in agreement with some of the harsher treatments he heard that toys received, like starvation as punishment, or treating them as if they had no feelings. That made him uncomfortable, but he was worried that his discomfort with that would make Tao uncomfortable. A lot of toys had been conditioned from very early on that these certain things were just How The World Worked and that was that. Telling them otherwise, especially at Tao’s age, might be deeply unsettling. 

 

Junmyeon helped Tao into the car before clambering in after him and telling the chauffeur to take them home. The ride was silent, but Junmyeon couldn't think of anything he could say that wouldn't need to be repeated later. 

 

Tao cleared his throat softly. "Ah... Master? What--what shall I call you?"

 

Junmyeon blinked. "Um... Junmyeon is just fine."

 

"I... You're supposed to have a title." Tao flinched instinctively, quickly adding. "I don't mean any disrespect, I just... That's how I heard it goes."

 

"And if I don't want a title... Is that okay with you?" Junmyeon asked. "Titles are... Stiff. I don't think we need that, unless you want it."

 

Tao seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but the next instant his face just smoothed down, and Junmyeon wondered if he hadn't imagined it. "No, it's okay with me," Tao said, batting his eyelashes prettily and dropping his gaze to his lap. 

 

They reached Junmyeon's house. He dismissed the driver, helping Tao out of the car. "Are you cold?" he asked the toy, noticing how chilly his fingertips were. 

 

"No," Tao said placidly, as a gust of wind blew past and he began to shiver visibly. 

 

Junmyeon just gave him a reproving look. "Uh huh. Let's get you inside."

 

The maid opened the door when they reached it, taking Junmyeon's coat as both he and Tao slipped off their shoes. 

 

"I'm afraid I wasn't planning on buying tonight, so preparations have been rushed," Junmyeon said to Tao, leading him up the stairs. "We can get you settled in over the course of the next couple days or so. Does that... Sound good?"

 

"Whatever suits you," Tao replied with a shallow bow. 

 

"Erm, okay. So, I've had a bedroom prepared for you. It's down the hall from my room, and right now it's for since we've just gotten to know each other, but later it'll be for if you think you need some space, okay?" Junmyeon explained. “It has its own bathroom. And… what else? Yes—I go to work early in the morning, but you don’t have to be up when I’m up. If you ever need me when I’m away, you can ask one of the maids to phone me, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Tao agreed, nodding.

 

“I think that’s it for now—unless you have anything to ask?” 

 

Again, it seemed like Tao was about to say something, but the look just swept across his face and then was gone. “No, Master,” he replied.

 

* * *

 

The first week passed peacefully. Junmyeon learned that Tao's real name was actually Zitao, that he was from China and that's why words tripped out of his mouth sometimes, and that most people actually just called him Taotao or Taozi.

 

Tao settled in well, or so it appeared. Junmyeon slept with him on his third night, and then sporadically over the next five or so days. He didn't know what Tao wanted, nor was he sure if it was a good idea to ask, so their sex life was pretty normal, or as Kris would say in an almost scathing tone, "so fuckin' vanilla".

 

But about halfway through week two, things changed. 

 

Junmyeon didn’t know what caused it. Suddenly, Tao became surly and less responsive. He whined more, and wouldn’t always do what Junmyeon told him to, even if it was something simple, like telling him to come to meals, which Junmyeon assumed was something most people would want to do whether they were being told or not.

 

“My toy won’t listen to me,” Junmyeon confided to Sehun one day over tea. 

 

“What do you mean?” Sehun, who normally looked a little bored with everyone, perked up at what sounded like gossip.

 

“He’s not… he’s not directly disobeying me. Not usually. He just… I dunno, finds his way around things. I tell him to come eat, and he’ll come ten or fifteen minutes later. I ask him if he wants to come read with me, and he won’t give me an answer this way or that. Same if I ask him what he wants—nothing. If I get even a little bit stern with him, he whines and pouts.” Junmyeon sighed. “He was so good… I don’t know what to do.”

 

“You were too nice to him,” Sehun said dismissively. “He realized that you’re soft, and now he thinks he can get away with anything.”

 

“Well—how do I stop him from thinking that?”

 

“Send him to a trainer,” Sehun said immediately.

 

Junmyeon shook his head. “I couldn’t. I don’t like… I don’t like the way they handle toys. I mean, at the end of the day, toys are still human. Training them like animals, especially like that, isn’t what I want.”

 

“Return him and buy another,” was Sehun’s next suggestion.

 

Junmyeon gasped. “No! I like him—” Sehun raised his eyebrows, and Junmyeon hurried on, “No, I do! I think that step is rash and hardly necessary… not to mention a waste of time and money.”

 

“You like him a lot, don’t you?” Sehun commented.

 

“No—not—what are you implying?” Junmyeon muttered.

 

“I’m implying nothing,” Sehun said impassively. “I just think that you should not be too invested in how much he likes you.”

 

“I’m not—!” But he was.  _I didn’t realize it until now… but Sehun is on to something. I want Tao to like me. I don’t know if he is miserable being with me. Maybe that’s why I’m being too gentle and trying to cling. Maybe I should just send him back._  


 

“How harsh are you with him?” Sehun asked, taking a sage sip of tea.

 

“…Not very,” Junmyeon admitted uncomfortably.

 

“Well, there you go.” Sehun placed his empty teacup down on the table with a soft clink. “Try it, and see what happens. If I’m right, you owe me a meal.” 

 

Junmyeon gave Sehun an appraising look out of the corner of his eye. As much as he wouldn’t like to be indebted to someone younger than him, he trusted Sehun’s judgement, enough. Or maybe he was desperate enough. Sehun gave him a little smile and Junmyeon sighed. “Fine. If it works, one meal. Lunch. You have to eat everything you order—you can’t pack it away. If not—” 

 

“I owe you a meal, naturally.”

 

“Right. So..."

 

“Deal,” Sehun said cheekily, extending his hand for Junmyeon to shake.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Junmyeon stepped across the threshold of his home, however, he began to regret his bet with Sehun. Now that he had made it, he had to give Sehun’s advice a try. The closer he got to the subject of the matter, the more unpleasant the task sounded, and the more unwilling he was to perform it.

 

Junmyeon told his maids to prepare dinner, and then went to his room to practice his face and intonation in the mirror. 

 

“Tao,” he said to his reflection as sternly as he could. “Come to dinner. Now.”

 

_Shit. That’s too much. He’ll probably laugh at me._

  
_“_ Tao. Come to dinner.” He turned his face uncaring, and found that the effect was better.

“Tao,” he tried again, keeping the same dispassionate expression but gentling his tone a notch. “Come to dinner. Now, please.”

 

Nodding to himself, he decided to give himself a little test. He went into his bedroom and changed out of his suit and into more comfortable clothing, and then went back to the mirror. Before looking, he arranged his features to what he remembered, and then, with his eyes closed, turned to face the mirror. Slowly he opened his eyes.

 

A bubble of laughter punched out of his chest. He looked like a constipated puffer fish from concentrating so hard on not looking like anything at all. He patted his cheeks a couple times and then mushed them in circles for good measure. 

 

“Okay,” he mumbled, trying again. He smoothed out his face, and then raised his eyes to the mirror. “Ah. Nailed it. Okay. Um.” He cleared his throat, and then made a mental note to definitely  _not_ do that when he actually went to fetch Tao. “Tao. I want you to come to dinner. Now, please.”

 

It sounded good. It sounded authoritative but not cruel.  _Yes!_ Junmyeon punched the air in his excitement. He put his body into the movement… and found his balance leaving him. With a strangled yelp, he flung his arms out, but it was fruitless. He crashed to a heap on the floor, feeling graceless and stupid.  _Why are comfortable socks so slippery?_ Junmyeon began to get to his feet, but as he did, he realized someone was standing in the doorway.

 

Tao had a very shocked expression on his face. As soon as their eyes met, Tao slapped both hands over his mouth—Junmyeon saw his shoulders shaking and knew the younger man was laughing at him.

 

Embarrassed and growing increasingly angry, Junmyeon jumped to his feet in what he hoped was at least semi-dignified manner. “How long have you been in here?” he snapped.

 

“I just arrived—I heard you were home and I thought—I thought you might have wanted me.” Something dark passed over Tao’s face that Junmyeon did not understand. 

 

“Were you ever trained to knock?” Junmyeon asked. He brushed off his shirt irritably. 

 

“You never told me I had to knock,” Tao shot back, a little venom in his voice now. “If you’re going to punish me for it now, that’s not fair. I know you read all sorts of books; do you know what an  _ex-post facto law_ is?"

 

“Who taught you to speak like that, huh?” Junmyeon stepped up into Tao’s space, trying to ignore the fact that he was being dwarfed. “And it’s not a law, it’s manners.” Junmyeon poked at Tao’s chest, forcing him to take a step backward. “Was the first week some kind of act? Were you not actually trained like the owner of the shelter told me?”

 

“I am trained!” Tao said hotly, glaring down at Junmyeon.

 

“Well, it appears that you’ve forgotten your training!” Junmyeon said, his voice getting louder with every word. “You don’t get to talk back to me like this. You don’t get to come and go as you please! Yah! Look at me when I’m speaking to you! When I ask a question, you answer!” Tao only clenched his jaw indignantly. Junmyeon suddenly remembered Sehun’s first suggestion, and the empty threat burst out of him before he could even process it. “Maybe I should send you to a trainer to straighten your behavior out, since you’re clearly so averse to listening to me!”

 

Tao flinched, and Junmyeon saw that dark something bloom in his eyes again. His jaw, however, remained defiant. “Fine then! Waste your own money, see if I care. I don’t need extra training. I’ve been trained! I’m not the problem here. Maybe—maybe the problem is you!”

 

They stared at each other, both breathing very heavily. “What did you say?” Junmyeon asked very, very softly.

 

Fear sparked in Tao’s eyes.  _Good_ , Junmyeon thought savagely, continuing to take aggressive steps forward, forcing Tao to back up further.  _He should be afraid._  


“I thought I told you to answer me when I ask you a question.” Junmyeon braced his right arm against Tao’s chest, shoving him the last few feet into the wall behind him. He dug his forearm into Tao, elbow pinching the skin of his armpit and fist clenched and shaking.

 

There was a sudden knock at the door. “Sir?”

 

“Not now,” Junmyeon said, trying his best to sound normal.

 

“I—Dinner, sir.”

 

Junmyeon sighed and turned his head to face the door, not loosening his hold over Tao. “I’m a bit busy at the moment. I’m sorry. Keep it warm for me.”

 

“Yes, sir.” He listened to the maid’s retreating footsteps down the hall.

 

Tao drew a sharp intake of breath and stiffened as Junmyeon returned his gaze from to door to him. “I’ll ask you again,” Junmyeon said, as if they had not been interrupted. “What. Did. You. Say?”

 

Tao froze for a moment, and then, to Junmyeon’s huge surprise, went slack, bowing his head with his eyes trained on the floor, turned away from Junmyeon. “I’m sorry, sir,” he mumbled. “I didn’t say anything.”

 

“I think you did. You said I was a problem, didn’t you?” When Tao didn’t answer, Junmyeon pushed against him roughly. “Didn’t you?”

 

“No!” Tao wouldn’t look at him.

 

“Am I a problem? Do you not like me? Do you wish that I would send you back to the shelter? Hm?” A sharp pain jabbed at Junmyeon’s chest as he said these words—it was what he was afraid of. One  _yes_ from Tao, and everything would be ruined. “Perhaps I should! Do you—” 

 

“No!” It came out differently this time, liked the syllable was being ripped from Tao’s lungs. “No, I don’t want to be sent back!” The toy raised his head and Junmyeon saw that his eyes were red and there were tears streaming down his face. Junmyeon was so thrown off he almost stepped back.

 

“Why… why are you crying?” Junmyeon asked.  _Stupid question. You just threatened him six ways to Sunday._ He didn’t take it back.

 

“I’m not!” Tao said, swiping at his eyes.

 

“Don’t lie to me.” 

 

“Leave me alone.”

 

“Don’t speak to me like that. I am in charge of you and I want to know why you are crying.”

 

“I don’t want to tell you!" 

 

“I said don’t speak to me like that!” For his size, Junmyeon was actually pretty strong. He grabbed Tao’s arm and dragged him over to the bed, where he flung him atop the covers.

 

  
_Maybe Sehun was right—the only way to get through to him is to be rough._ It wasn’t Junmyeon’s first choice, but he didn’t see anything else he could do. “What do toys usually get as punishment?” He mostly said it to himself.  _I don’t want to do anything that would actually jeopardize his health. So, no choking, no starving, and no neglecting him._ Junmyeon studied Tao, who was curled up on the bed with his face hidden. 

 

Junmyeon sat down on the bed, having come to a decision. “Tao. Across my lap, now.” Tao whimpered a little, but did as he was told. "If you try to block one of the hits, you get two more, hear me?"

 

Tao nodded. "Yes, sir."

 

"Let's see... Five for being bratty this past week, two for talking back just now, and three for not answering my questions even when I asked multiple times." Junmyeon counted off Tao's offenses on his hands. "That makes ten. After each one, you will count out the number we're on. If you can't keep track, we start over. Understand?"

 

"Yes, sir," Tao repeated. 

 

Junmyeon lifted Tao's robe to expose his bare ass, and then used one hand to keep the robe from slipping back down and to keep Tao's hips in place. He raised his right hand, and brought it down against Tao's ass. It stung, and the smack rang through the room. Tao gave a shuddering gasp, but he dutifully said, "One," just like Junmyeon told him to. 

 

Smack. “Two.” Smack. “Three.” Tao’s ass was turning a light pink, and he shifted a little under Junmyeon’s grip. Still,  _four-five-six_ went by without incident. At  _seven_ , Tao forgot to count it, but once Junmyeon prompted him, he was quick correct himself.

 

“Seven! I’m sorry!” It came out along with a soft, hiccuped sob. Junmyeon flinched inwardly, but he couldn’t just stop in the middle of a punishment. Tao would never learn then.

 

“Almost done,” he said instead, hoping it would console him a little bit. “You’re doing really well.” He was delighted to hear Tao give a quiet almost-whine at the praise.

 

But the tears came right back with the next spank. Both Tao's ass and Junmyeon's hand were bright red, and Junmyeon knew he was going to have to remember to give extra gentle aftercare when they were done. 

 

And still, Tao counted out the eighth and ninth spanks with a quavering but clear voice, though he dissolved into tears directly after. 

 

"Just one more," Junmyeon said, unsure exactly how to react. "You... know why you're being punished, yes?"

 

"Yes," Tao whispered. "I was bad and I didn't listen to what you told me to do."

 

"One more, okay?" Junmyeon said. Tao nodded, and Junmyeon raised his hand once more. Tao cried out at the contact.

 

Junmyeon helped him into a sitting position, and Tao slumped into Junmyeon's chest. It took him a second to realize Tao was mumbling something into his shirt. 

 

"Pardon? I can't hear you if you have your face buried like that," Junmyeon said gently. 

 

Tao shifted to look up at Junmyeon. "I said I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't... You're not really going to send me back, are you? I don’t want to… I don’t want to leave."

 

"No, Tao," Junmyeon said, reaching around to pet Tao's hair. “No, I’m not going to send you back.”

 

“And—and, what about a trainer?”

 

Junmyeon smiled. “You know? I think I can handle you just fine.” He moved his hand to the small of Tao’s back. “Does it hurt?”

 

“A little.”

 

“I can get something for it.”

 

“It’s supposed to hurt.”

 

“I… I have to take care of you. Wait here?” Junmyeon rose, slipping out of Tao’s slack grip and heading to his medicine cabinet. “I have this soothing gel—I thought it might help.”

 

“O-okay.” Tao looked at him curiously. 

 

Junmyeon set the jar on the bedside table. “I’m going to get a washcloth. Will you lie on your stomach for me?”

 

Tao complied, and Junmyeon went into the bathroom to get a soft washcloth. He dampened it with some warm water, and then headed back into the bedroom, where he found Tao lying on the bed, his forehead resting on his arms. Junmyeon pulled Tao’s robes up again, wincing when he saw how red his ass still was. Using the washcloth, he gently swabbed at the reddest parts, hoping the water against the cool air would help some as well. Then, he opened the jar and tried to rub some of the gel in without hurting Tao any further. 

 

“Okay,” he said quietly, flipping Tao’s robe back down and putting the lid back on the jar. “All done.”

 

“Thank you, Master,” Tao murmured. “It feels better.”

 

“You don’t have to call me that,” Junmyeon said. 

 

“If I want to… sometimes, can I?” Tao asked.

 

  
_Oh._ “S-sure,” Junmyeon said, caught off-guard. “If you want to.” He took one of Tao’s hands. “Okay, listen… I want to get along with you better. I don’t want this to be a power struggle. I want to give you freedom, okay, but I also need you to listen to me when I tell you to listen. Is there a reason you were being so… so difficult, recently?”

 

Tao looked down in his lap. “I…” He bit his lip.

 

“You don’t have to hide anything from me. Is there something I’m doing wrong? Maybe I  _am_ the problem, Tao. What is it?” When Tao just looked at him, Junmyeon added, “I won’t spank you again, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 

“It’s not, I just…” Tao fidgeted with his hands. “I want you to be stricter with me. I… I want you to set down rules, and be—be rougher with me in bed. It would be nice if you were fair, but I… yeah.”

 

“Oh.” Junmyeon felt a little lost. “Is that why you were acting out? Trying to get me to do that?” Tao nodded. “Oh—I’m sorry. I—you could have just told me.”

 

“Well… it worked, right?” Tao gave him a shyly smug look.

 

“Yeah, but… I mean, I don’t know how pleasant it was for you, but I didn’t find it very fun.” Junmyeon shook his head. “Well, that’s in the past. Next time, if you want or need something, tell me, okay? That’s rule number one, okay, there you go. What else do you want rules about?”

 

“Well… Where I sleep, when I eat, what I eat… If I do badly, there should be different kinds of punishments…” Tao trailed off.

 

“And if you do well, rewards,” Junmyeon added. “Okay. Well, as for eating, the only rule I have is that you come eat with me when I ask you to, unless you’re feeling bad. Other than that, you should eat when you're hungry. But you have to tell me when you’re feeling sick or something—that’s another rule. That goes for emotions too, if you’re feeling down or upset, please tell me. As for sleeping… good toys sleep at the foot of their master’s bed, right?” Tao nodded again. “So if I think you’ve been good that day, do you want to sleep there instead of your room?” Tao nodded, more vigorously this time. “Okay then. Uh, another rule, if I ask you a question, you have to give me a real answer. If I tell you to do something, you do it, unless it makes you uncomfortable or scared, but then you have to tell me why you don’t want to do it so I can work something out with you.”

 

“And punishments?” Tao asked.

 

“Spanking for being bratty or not listening feels right,” Junmyeon said. 

 

“Yes,” Tao agreed.

 

“And… when we’re—when we’re in bed, uh, I won’t let you come if you’ve been bad, is that fair?”

 

“Yes,” Tao said with a pout, but then he smiled. “It’s fair.”

 

“What else do you think…?” 

 

“I…” Tao blushed. “If I’ve only been a little bad, when we’re having sex, you could always fuck my face—I mean, I like it, so it’s not like, a big punishment, but more of something just to remind me of my place. And if I’ve been really bad—this goes for, like, anytime—if I’ve been really bad, maybe… maybe you could choke me? Or slap me, like across the face?”

 

“Are you sure?” Junmyeon asked. “That’s kind of… violent.”

 

“I know you won’t actually hurt me.”

 

“Choking, maybe. But slapping… no. That’s too much, I… I don’t want to mess up your face on accident.” Almost instinctively, Junmyeon raised his fingers to Tao’s cheeks, running his thumbs over his cheekbones. 

 

Tao leaned into the touch, letting his eyes flutter shut. “Okay,” he murmured. “That’s fair, too.”

 

“What do you want for rewards?” Junmyeon asked.

 

“Hm…” Tao reopened his eyes and looked at Junmyeon through his lashes. “A pretty collar or two would be nice. With a leash, even? I’d really like that. And um…” Tao flitted his gaze away. “I like pretty things. Like shiny things.”

 

“Jewelry?” Junmyeon asked, a little surprised.

 

Tao misunderstood his surprise. “Well—no, I mean—I know toys shouldn’t really ask—for such—such expensive things—I—”

 

“No, it’s okay!” Junmyeon smiled. “I think you’d look pretty with necklaces and bracelets and rings. What do you think of a body chain? You know, the really delicate ones…”

 

Tao’s eyes lit up. “I love those,” he whispered. “You’d really… you’d really get something like that? For me?”

 

Junmyeon smiled even bigger. “If you’re very, very good,” he promised. “We can go pick one out for you.”

 

“Thank you.” Tao took Junmyeon’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “I would really like that.”

 

“Of course.” Junmyeon studied him. “Anything else? What do you want  _me_ to call  _you_?”

 

Tao blushed again. “‘Baby' would be nice,” he mumbled. “Or… or…”

 

“Sweetheart? Darling? Pet? You want those kinds of nicknames?” Junmyeon confirmed. “Okay, then…  _angel_.” If possible, Tao blushed deeper. Junmyeon brushed some stray hair from Tao’s eyes. “Are you hungry? I am. Do you want to go down and see if dinner is still warm?”

 

“Yes,” Tao said softly. Junmyeon stood and offered a hand to help Tao, who winced a little as he got to his feet. Junmyeon brushed some wrinkles off of Tao’s robes and together, they went down to the dining room.

 

  
_Well, shit,_  Junmyeon thought as they went.  _It looks like I owe Sehun lunch._  



	2. Krisyeol 1

Kris found Chanyeol at a strip club, and it was exactly as unromantic as it sounds. Which suited Kris just fine—he wasn’t here for love.

 

He knew where to find him, now. Like always, he paid the owner of the club for a night with the toy, and then Chanyeol led him to a room in the back, where the bass didn’t boom so much as pulse, like some kind of seductive undercurrent, the lifeblood of the club itself.

 

The first few times were awkward, because neither knew really how to act around the other. Chanyeol had tried to seduce him ( _I mean, what the hell, dude? You think I’m coming here and I’m still wishy-washy about sex? No. Don’t waste my time)._ And at first, Kris wasn’t sure exactly how far to go. But before long, it became abundantly clear to Chanyeol that as soon as the door was shut, Kris expected his body on him, and it became abundantly clear to Kris that whatever Kris had up his sleeve, Chanyeol could take it.

 

“Listen, this may seem like a really  _wild_ concept to you,” Minseok had mentioned to Kris once. “But why don’t you just, I dunno,  _buy_ him? Instead of going there every few nights—by the end of this year, you’ll have spent more money in total for all these times than you would if you just purchase him. And then you’ll have him forever.”

 

Kris just grumbled something about commitment and it being safer to just do it in increments instead. “What if I get bored of him?”

 

“Too risky of an investment?” Minseok said wryly, one eyebrow raised so high it disappeared into the older man’s short bangs. “C’mon, dude. You’re totally whipped. You’re not gonna get  _bored_ of him.”

 

“I’m not ‘whipped’!” Kris rebutted hotly. “He just looks nice and he… matches well with me. Right now.”

 

Minseok snorted. “‘Matches well’, sure. Has the same kinks, more like.”

 

“I didn’t come here to get kinkshamed,” Kris complained.

 

“Hey, no shaming happening here. Look at who you’re talking to.” Minseok did have a point. “I’m just saying.”

 

“Yeah, keep ‘just saying.’ I’m still not listening to you.”

 

“Okay. Those are my two cents on it, that’s all. You’re lucky,” Minseok added. “Most of my thoughts are actually worth more than two cents.”

 

“Get your cheap ass out of here,” Kris said, aiming a kick at the offending behind.

 

“Hey!” Minseok jumped out of range (an impressive feat, really, considering how long Kris’s legs were). “Don’t touch what you can’t afford!”

 

Kris just rolled his eyes.

 

Junmyeon had also approached him on the matter. “Kris, just buy him. He’s probably grown attached to you by now, anyway. You go at the same time every, what is it, Wednesday and Friday? He expects you at that time now, probably gets excited when he knows you’re gonna be there, though he’s worried that you won’t show. It’s harder on both of you for you to do what you’ve been doing.”

 

“If he’s attached to me, that’s  _his_ problem,” Kris replied. “Toys aren’t allowed to grow attached.”

 

Junmyeon just looked at him for a few moments, sort of searching his face. Just when Kris, feeling a bit perturbed, was about to add something, he spoke again. “And what about you, Kris?”

 

“What  _about_ me?”

 

“Are the rest of us not allowed to grow attached as well? Is it really only his problem?” Junmyeon asked in the probing way that made Kris real angry, real fast, because Junmyeon was usually right.

 

Kris rolled his eyes, restraining himself from snapping. “I’m not attached, Junmyeon. Stop worrying. Cold city man, remember? No heart?”

 

Junmyeon just nodded slowly, ducking his chin to hide a smile. “Sure, sure.”

 

* * *

 

"Chanyeol again?" one of the receptionists confirmed. 

 

"Of course," Kris replied. 

 

“How many hours? Three? Oh—” Kris had already handed over the money. It was the same every time; he knew the drill. “One moment,” the receptionist said mellowly. “I’ll get him for you.”

 

Kris looked around as he waited, and he couldn't help thinking about what both Junmyeon and Minseok had said to him.  _Junmyeon bought his toy too much on impulse. Sure, it worked out for them, but how do I know I will be as fortunate? And Minseok? He barely leaves his house except to go to work._  


 

"Whipped? What does he know?" Kris muttered to himself sourly. Shaking his head, he straightened his shirt. 

 

"Sir," a familiar voice said. Kris turned, and saw Chanyeol bowed in front of him. His (newly-dyed, Kris noted) red hair was styled back nicely, and he was wearing a simple black robe. 

 

“Stand up,” Kris said, eyes unblinking, watching as Chanyeol straightened and raised his head. Kris’s breath caught in his throat. Chanyeol was wearing a standard issue black leather collar around his neck, but Kris thought looked the best on him. Someone had done Chanyeol's makeup a shimmery dark red shade that complemented his hair, and when he moved to flick his hair out of his eyes, Kris saw the edge of a yellowing bruise peek out from behind the collar of the robe—Kris had left that mark just a few days before.  _Mine_ , Kris thought before he could stop himself. 

 

“Hi, sir,” Chanyeol said, still respectfully keeping his gaze on the floor. Kris saw the corners of his lips quirking up a little. Chanyeol was always getting like this lately—when he first came out, he was jittery and excited, and always grinning like an idiot.

 

“Hi,” Kris said slowly, taking a few steps toward the toy. “Shall we go?”

 

“Of course,” Chanyeol bowed shallowly and led Kris down the hall to a room. As soon as the door was shut, Chanyeol let Kris untie the robe, which fluttered to the ground, covering Chanyeol’s feet. The toy stood perfectly still, arms loose at his sides as Kris took a couple circles around him, examining his body. His eyes went from bruise to bruise, mark to mark— _that was from my fingers, that was from my teeth, my nails, my palms, my lips—_  


“Hey.” Kris bent slightly, putting his pointer and middle fingers over a darker bruise halfway down Chanyeol’s inner thigh. “What’s this? It’s too fresh to be from me.”

 

Chanyeol folded into himself a little (Kris didn’t know how he did it, how he made his 185 centimeter frame look small). “You’re… you’re not the only one who leaves marks… sir,” he said in a very small voice. “I have other… clients.” 

 

“Hm,” Kris said through his nose, standing. He had no right to be angry. It wasn’t like he owned Chanyeol. Once the three hours were up, they were up. Chanyeol belonged to the club and the club sold him out to clients. Just like they sold him to Kris.  _Am I just another client to him?_ Kris wondered, remembering what Junmyeon said about Chanyeol being ‘probably attached’. 

 

“Have I done something wrong?” Chanyeol asked, voice even smaller still. 

 

“No,” Kris said rather heavily. “Not at all. I’ll just have to give you better ones.”

 

“You always give me the best bruises,” Chanyeol said, voice suddenly stronger and full of sugar. He risked a quick glance up at Kris’s face. “Sir.”

 

“I’m sure you say that to everyone you let in your robe,” Kris snorted. “Come on, on the bed. On your back. That collar shows that you belong to the club, but I’ll give you a collar of my own.”

 

Chanyeol just barely let an excited gasp slip through his lips as he followed Kris’s directions. Kris climbed up after him, pushing Chanyeol’s legs apart so that he was sitting between them. He ran one hand through Chanyeol’s hair. “They changed the color?”

 

“Yes. Boss said… Boss said he thinks red is my color.” Chanyeol said this very shyly. 

 

“It does look good on you,” Kris commented, fisting a hand into it his hair. “But…” His eyes trailed to the fading bruise on Chanyeol’s collarbone. “Don’t tell Boss I said this, but I think purple suits you better.”

 

“Thank you, sir. I won’t tell him.”

 

“Good boy.” Kris pressed a kiss to Chanyeol’s lips, simultaneously reaching down to Chanyeol’s hole. “Already prepped?” He felt the end of a plug, which answered his question.

 

“Of course, sir,” Chanyeol responded anyway, because good toys always answer questions they are asked.

 

“Good.” Kris withdrew his hand and used it to brace himself against the headboard instead. Chanyeol knew better than to whine—Kris hated whining if it was complaining, and that would definitely count as complaining. Kris wriggled the collar a little bit lower and then dipped his head, starting his work on Chanyeol’s neck, starting below and behind his ear, and sucking a hickey into his previously unblemished skin. 

 

“Sir?”

 

Kris pulled away slowly. “Yes?”

 

“May I touch you?”

 

Kris smiled. “Help me take off my shirt.” He raised his chin and stared blankly at the headboard above Chanyeol’s head. Feigning general disinterest was, Kris had found, the best way to stay a little detached and in control of the situation. So far, he had done well—he noted that Chanyeol was already hard and leaking. Of course, Chanyeol couldn’t even allude to the fact—good toys please their masters first before even thinking of themselves.

 

Eagerly, Chanyeol raised his hands to the buttons on Kris’s shirt, deftly undoing them with an efficiency and grace that Kris had only ever seen in toys. He always wondered if it was something they were trained in, but he never found the proper moment to ask. With the shirt hanging open, Chanyeol took advantage of Kris’s relative inattention and darted forward to press a kiss to Kris’s toned stomach.

 

“Hey, stop that.” Kris swatted at Chanyeol’s cheek gently. Chanyeol closed his eyes at the contact; Kris knew he was wishing for more.  _Not yet_. “I said touch; I didn’t say kiss. Did I say you could do that?”

 

“No, sir,” Chanyeol whispered, keeping his eyes closed. “I was bad, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

 

“At least you know to apologize,” Kris grumbled, his dick twitching in his pants at Chanyeol’s immediate submissiveness. “I’ll forgive you this time, since you’ve been so good. But another slip up and you know what happens.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Chanyeol shivered, reopening his eyes and reaching up to carefully tug Kris’s shirt down his shoulders. When he pulled it as far as he could without running into the danger of damaging it, Kris moved his arms behind his back and, leaning back on his heels, shook the shirt the rest of the way off.  Chanyeol half-reached out, but then stopped himself. “May I, sir?”

 

“Yes.” Kris bent over him again, going back to his neck, and Chanyeol splayed one hand on Kris’s back, his arm wrapped around Kris’s waist. His other hand was on Kris’s shoulder, tracing the bone along the top with his thumb, back and forth. A part of Kris flinched away at the familiarity of the touch, but he had a collar of hickeys to brand into Chanyeol's neck, so he didn't do anything. Besides, at the same time, it was a little bit comforting.

 

Kris finally finished the collar, his lips feeling as bruised as the skin on Chanyeol's neck. Chanyeol's eyes were glazed, and he gave Kris a soft smile. 

 

"How does it look, sir?" he asked. "I'm sure it looks good because you did it."

 

Kris just laughed. "You look good," he assured him, tugging the real collar back into place. It didn't cover the hickeys up completely, and that was exactly what he wanted. "Okay, you've been so patient. Lube? Condom?"

 

Chanyeol reached over and grabbed them out of a drawer--a packet of lube and one individually wrapped condom.

 

Kris took them and placed them further down on the bed, and then carefully swung his legs around and stood. Chanyeol, knowing by now exactly what he wanted, hopped off too, and went on his knees to undo the fastenings of Kris's pants, and then tugged them down, along with Kris's underwear. Very composed, Kris stepped out of his pants, leaving them on the floor. 

 

Chanyeol was watching him (or, more specifically, his dick) with big eyes and parted lips, and Kris saw him repeatedly flicking his tongue out to lick his lips. Kris smiled at him, and then looped his finger through the ring of the collar, pulling Chanyeol with him as he backed the few steps to the bed. Kris sat, and Chanyeol tucked his heels underneath him, kneeling between Kris's thighs. Immediately, Chanyeol's jaw dropped open and he looked up at Kris with pleading eyes. 

 

"Can I, sir?" Kris nodded in response, and Chanyeol didn't hesitate. He relaxed his throat and took Kris all at once, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply. The suddenness and swiftness of the action almost caught Kris off guard. 

 

"Eager today?" Kris asked, fighting to keep his voice even. Chanyeol just hummed around his dick, shooting vibrations of pleasure through Kris's body. 

 

Chanyeol pushed himself further down Kris's (considerable) length, gagging softly and pulling off for only a second before continuing. 

 

"Do you want me to fuck your face?" Kris asked. Chanyeol's eyes shot open and he nodded excitedly. Kris smiled and moved to stand. Chanyeol popped off just to rearrange himself by raising off his heels in a kneeling position. Kris fisted one hand through Chanyeol's hair, roughly, and Chanyeol moaned, which got muffled by Kris angling his cock back into Chanyeol's mouth. 

 

Kris snapped his hips forward, careful not to go too hard, and set a fast rhythm. Chanyeol didn't complain, just took it like he always did. Soon, little tears were leaking out of his eyes, and Kris felt a tightening in his stomach. Almost reluctantly, he stopped, watching as Chanyeol coughed a little, a few strings of spit hanging from his mouth. He wiped them away as carefully as he could; Kris assumed there was makeup that he was trying to preserve.

 

“Thank you, sir,” he whispered, and it was moments like that in which Kris was swept away by how good a toy Chanyeol was. For a tiny instant, Kris really considered buying him—maybe everyone was right, you know? Maybe the companionship would be kind of nice.

 

But the next instant he batted the thought away impatiently.  _It’s not about love, it’s about getting off,_ he reminded himself as he tugged Chanyeol to his feet with a murmured “good boy” and pushed him back onto the bed. 

 

Chanyeol, seemingly unaware of Kris’s internal turmoil, watched him with lidded eyes as the taller man ripped open first the condom, rolling it on to his dick, and then the lube, which he squeezed out onto his hand. Kris stroked himself with the lubed hand, and then bent over and wiggled the butt plug out of Chanyeol’s ass. Chanyeol gasped when it came out, and Kris saw his hole clenching around air. He groaned involuntarily at the sight, worries about purchasing or not purchasing Chanyeol all but forgotten. Without warning, he pushed himself in. 

 

Chanyeol opened his mouth in a silent scream, squeezing his eyes shut. His hands scrabbled at the bedsheets beneath him, since he hadn’t been given permission to touch Kris. Kris smiled, and took one of his wrists and guided it to his shoulder. With Chanyeol anchored, Kris gripped the top of the headboard, readjusted his legs, and began slamming into Chanyeol, setting a brutal pace. There was no build-up to something bigger; there never was. It wasn’t about love, it was about getting off and they both knew it (Kris set his jaw against his own dumb brain as he thought it, in case a different part of him was about to argue). He pushed into Chanyeol again and again, skin slapping harshly against skin. Chanyeol seemed to be choking on his own tongue, and he was carefully only digging the pads of his fingers into Kris’s shoulder, not his nails, because he wasn’t allowed to hurt his clients in any way. 

 

“I know you want to scream,” Kris growled. “Just do it. No one but me can hear you because the music is so loud, and even if they do, they’ll just know how much a slut you are.” Chanyeol let out a sob of pleasure, almost as if on command. “You like it when I call you a slut, don’t you?” When Chanyeol only moaned in response, Kris stilled instantly. “I asked you a question.”

 

“Yes! Yes, I do! Please, sir, please please please don’t stop, please,” Chanyeol blurted. “I can’t—please—I am your slut, sir, please—!”

 

Satisfied, Kris picked up the pace again. The bed creaked underneath them as he moved, and Chanyeol kept hitting his head against the headboard, but he didn’t complain and Kris didn’t stop. 

 

“Please, sir—will you choke me?” Chanyeol gasped out.

 

Kris didn’t even think about it; he shifted his weight onto one arm, reared back, and smacked Chanyeol across the cheek—hard enough to make him cry out but not hard enough to actually hurt him. “Bad boy. You don’t get to ask for anything from me when we’re at this stage. I do what I want, and you take it.”

 

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry,” Chanyeol slurred in a rush, still dazed from the hit. “I’m sorry."

 

Kris was too close to try and stop to punish him properly. A savage part of him thought to just leave Chanyeol hard and wanting, but he couldn’t. He grabbed Chanyeol’s hips, shifting him downwards and throwing his legs over his shoulders. He pressed one hand against Chanyeol’s chest, and with the other, spanked Chanyeol’s ass a few times in lieu of proper punishment. Chanyeol seemed to get the message, mumbling apologies a few times more, before falling back into incoherence.

 

Truth be told, Kris wouldn’t have minded choking Chanyeol. But giving him what he wanted was teaching him that he could manipulate people, and toys weren’t allowed to do that. Kris settled for ramming into him even harder, until Chanyeol was screaming his throat raw. 

 

“Do you wanna come, toy? Answer me properly.” Kris knew they were both so close; he figured it was about time to give Chanyeol what he wanted.

 

“Yes, sir, please, sir,” Chanyeol cried. 

 

“No hands—come untouched.” Kris watched as pleasure and horror both flooded Chanyeol’s eyes—he always thought he couldn’t. Kris knew otherwise. “Come on, slut, I’ve seen you do it.”

 

Chanyeol clenched his teeth together, tensing his entire body, arching back. He gave a final scream, spurting come down his stomach and chest. Shaking, he fell back into the pillows behind him. Kris curled inward, clutching at Chanyeol’s hips hard enough to leave bruises, and thrusted into him one last time, stilling as he filled the condom with his own come.

 

They were both panting, covered in sweat and, in Chanyeol’s case, come. Kris pulled out, taking off the condom and dropped it in a trash bin. He walked over to get a couple of damp washcloths, tossing one to Chanyeol, who thank-you-sir-ed him groggily. With the other, he wiped himself down before going around to retrieve his pants. He was starting to button his shirt when he felt Chanyeol behind him. Kris handed him his robe, and the toy moved to stand in front of him as he put it on.

 

“Thank you, sir,” Chanyeol said softly. “I… don’t tell Boss this either, because I’m not allowed—but you’re my favorite. Out of all the clients I get here.”

 

“I’m sure you say that to everyone, too,” Kris said stiffly, straightening his collar.

 

“No, I mean it, sir, I mean it. I—” Chanyeol looked up at him. “I know it’s not my place to ask you for anything at all, but—but…”

 

“If you know it’s not your place, you shouldn’t say it,” Kris advised, getting nervous.

 

“No, I have to. I have to.” Chanyeol shook his head, and then went down into a formal bow at Kris’s feet. “I know it’s not my place, but sir, if you were willing, I was hoping maybe you would buy me.”

 

Kris felt cold; he froze and stared at the toy at his feet.  _Is he really attached to me like Junmyeon said?_ Another feeling twisted its way into Kris’s chest.  _Am I attached to him?_ He shook his head.  _No. No, I’m not allowed to be. I can’t do that. I can’t have feelings for a_ toy,  _that just leads to heartbreak and disaster. It’s best to cut it off here._ Kris felt a flash of fury.  _Everything was going well, and now I have to get rid of him! Why did he have to ruin it? Dammit!_  


“Damn right it’s not your fucking place,” Kris said in a low, venomous tone. “I can’t believe a toy with training as good as yours would even think to ask that shit. The answer is no. Get out of my goddamn sight.” 

 

Chanyeol scrambled to his feet, staring at Kris with wide eyes, looking scared and hurt. Kris didn’t care. It was better this way. He couldn’t allow himself to develop feelings for anyone, especially not a toy. 

 

“Sir…” Chanyeol whispered, a tear finding its way onto his cheek. “Sir, you…”

 

“What did I say?” Kris raised a hand, his voice louder than before. “Get out of my sight!” 

 

Chanyeol didn’t need to be told a third time. He whirled around, fumbling for the handle of the door, and leapt out into the hallway. As he fled down the hall, Kris was sure he heard a sob.

 

  
_Serves him right for letting himself get invested,_ Kris thought as he made his way more slowly back to the reception area.  _He knows that it’s his job to get fucked by other men and take the money and take the relative security of it and leave it be. Really, we shouldn’t even know each other’s names. There should be nothing personal about this. He ruined it, not you. He ruined it._  


“Was your stay satisfactory?” A different receptionist was there, asking the standard question Kris always heard when he left.

 

Kris sighed. “Yes,” he said dully. “It was fine.” With that, he turned on his heel and left, blowing fog into the cold night air as he walked to his car. He shivered against the chill as he fumbled for his keys; he should have brought a coat.

 

* * *

 

When he went at his usual time the next Wednesday, Kris requested a different toy—that is, he just described someone that wasn’t Chanyeol and waited to see what he got. The toy ended up being a short, slim boy with blond hair and a cute manner. As Kris was being led out of the reception area, Chanyeol walked out of the door marked “backstage - employees only”.

 

Chanyeol froze in his footsteps, looking from Kris to the other toy and then back to Kris. Kris stared determinedly ahead, though he did see out of the corner of his eye that Chanyeol opened his mouth as if he was going to say something as they approached. Kris tried to hurry past, but the other toy, not sensing the tension, slowed to say hello.

 

“Hi, Chanyeol, what are you doing out here? Do you have a client?”

 

“No, I…” Chanyeol sounded defeated. “I thought I did. I guess… I guess I don’t anymore. I… I’ll go check in with Boss to see if he needs something from me then. Uh, do well.”

 

“Thanks!” As they passed, Kris noticed that Chanyeol was wearing a dark purple-blue robe. “We’re right in here, sir,” the other toy said, gesturing to a door before pushing it open. Kris paused before going in, watching for movement down the hall. Chanyeol appeared to still be there, but when he saw Kris stop, he whirled around with a barely audible sob and dove back into the staff room.

 

The other toy didn’t seem to have heard, or have noticed what was going on. Kris let him undress him and lead him to the bed, but his mind was elsewhere as he pounded into the toy, and he almost forgot to give him permission to come. When Kris finally came himself, he found himself thinking of his hands in Chanyeol’s hair.

 

He didn’t go back to the club for a couple weeks. It didn’t go unnoticed by his friends. 

 

“What happened last week?” Kyungsoo asked him one morning when they were both in the company kitchenette, getting cups of coffee. “You haven’t been in a while. Did you get kicked out? Seriously, dude. You look… unhappy.”

 

“I’m fine,” Kris snapped. “Stop sticking your nose into my sex life.”

 

“What happened to Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo persisted. “I thought you liked him.”

 

“I said I’m fine!” Kris exclaimed. “Nothing happened, okay? Forget it.”

 

Kyungsoo put his hands up in surrender, and then walked away, sipping his coffee.

 

Kris was cornered again later that week at lunch by no other than Yixing. Anyone else, he would have immediately barked at to go away, but, like everyone else, when you were around Yixing you tended to really soften. 

 

“What,” Kris said flatly.

 

“I heard you had some trouble with that toy you were… seeing,” Yixing began, slipping gracefully into the seat across from him. “I’m not here to tell you what to do, I just want to give you some advice if I can. You look upset. You’re not eating as much as you normally do. You have bags under your eyes and you’re grumpier than usual. You’re hurting. I don’t like to see that.”

 

Kris couldn’t just brush him off when he was being so polite. “We had a disagreement and I decided I don’t want to ‘see’ him anymore,” Kris said. “That’s all.”

 

“What was the disagreement about?”

 

“Does it matter?”

 

“Yes.” Yixing leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Yes, it does. Things aren’t going to get better if you ignore them.”

 

“He asked me to buy him. I said no and he looked shocked and offended. I don’t know what he expected me to say.”

 

“Maybe yes?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Maybe he expected you to say yes.” Yixing shrugged. “I thought you really liked him. We all did. None of us understand why you didn’t want to buy him. And now that he’s made it clear that he  _wants_ you to buy him, I don’t see what the problem is.”

 

“What the problem is? The fact that he wants me to buy him is the problem exactly! It proves that he’s attached, it proves that he has some kind of feelings for me, and that’s bad. Toys and people like you and me aren’t supposed to have feelings for each other.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“Because… because that’s how the world works!” Kris spluttered.

 

“They’re human, too,” Yixing reminded him gently. “You’re allowed to love someone else. It’s not so bad.”

 

“I’m not supposed to,” Kris mumbled, wondering exactly when they had gone from the topic of Chanyeol liking him to  _him_ like  _Chanyeol_. 

 

“Kris, if he makes you happy, why are you hesitating?” Yixing’s voice was so soft. “Does he make you happy?”

 

“I… think so?” Kris said, raising his gaze to meet Yixing’s. “I don’t know. Not lately, but… I mean, he’s probably mad at me now…”

 

“So just apologize. It will be enough—he’ll understand. He’ll probably be shocked that you’re even apologizing to him.” Yixing cocked his head. “Toys don’t get apologized to often.”

 

“I don’t know what to do,” Kris said. “Yixing, what do I do?"

 

“If he makes you happy, that’s all the answer you need.”

 

“You really think I should buy him?”

 

Yixing shrugged. “I don’t think you should do anything if you don’t want to. All I’m saying is that generally when something makes you happy, you do whatever you can not to lose it. He sounds like a good toy. If you like him, go get him—who knows, someone else might even buy him soon, you know?”

 

Kris sighed. “…Thanks, Yixing.”

 

Yixing stood, carefully pushing in his chair. “It’s nothing,” he said. “Have a good lunch. Make sure to rest more. You really do look tired.”

 

That night, Kris found himself sitting on his bed, turning his phone over and over in his hands. He, unlike Junmyeon, could haggle anytime, anywhere, so he didn’t need to worry about not seeing the other person face to face.  _Someone else might even buy him soon._  


“Dammit!” Kris threw a pillow viciously at his door. It bounced off soundlessly. “Damn him for being attractive! Damn  _me_ for feeling guilty! Damn me for being emotional! Dammit!” He groaned, fell back onto his bed, and pressed the call button on his phone and put it to his ear. “Hello? Yes, I would like to purchase one of your toys?”

 

* * *

 

He decided to have Chanyeol delivered to his house—he didn’t want to go back to that club, afraid that when he got halfway there he would just turn around because he knew he was a coward. Kris spent the whole day organizing and reorganizing the house, yelling at his maids to make sure the sheets in the guest room were properly ironed, that they were ready to add the rose oil and petals into a warm bath at his word. 

 

Around two in the afternoon, a car pulled up into Kris’s driveway. Feeling very antsy, Kris went out to greet it. The man in the passenger seat open the back door and lead Chanyeol out. He was in a black robe, and was wearing a blindfold.

 

“Stay still,” the man instructed him.

 

“Yes, Boss,” Chanyeol mumbled back, and Kris thought his voice sounded like he had been crying.  _He doesn’t realize it’s me,_ Kris realized.  _They don’t tell him who they’re getting sold to._ Relief crashed over him at the thought—he got to control when Chanyeol found out.

 

“Payment?” Boss came up to Kris— _so this is Boss._ Kris had never met him, only heard Chanyeol mention him in passing. He was a rather imposing man from afar, but he had kinder eyes than Kris expected. Kris handed over the stack of bills, which Boss quickly counted. “Perfect, thank you,” he said, pocketing it. “Shall I take his blindfold off?”

 

Kris shook his head.

 

“You’ll do it? All right.” Boss went back, took Chanyeol’s arm and guided him forward. “Chanyeol, be good. I hope I don’t get any complaints.” He looked at Kris. “If you have any worries and concerns, please don’t hesitate to contact us. If anything is not to your satisfaction, we will try our best to remedy it free of charge for the first three months.”

 

Kris bowed at him, unwilling to speak because he knew it would give him away. He nodded at two maids, who hurried forward to take Chanyeol inside. A third maid came to Kris’s side. Once Chanyeol was out of earshot, Kris added to her, “Make sure they take him to the guest room. Stay and ensure he doesn’t take off his blindfold yet.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Thank you,” Kris said to Boss, bowing again. “Pleasure doing business with you. Have a good day.”

 

“You as well,” Boss said, bowing back. And with that, he was back in the car, and then the car was gone.

 

Kris stepped back into his house, and made his way down the halls to Chanyeol’s room. He found him standing in the middle of the room with the two maids a few steps away on either side. Kris dismissed them with a curt nod, shutting the door behind them.

 

“Are you scared?” he finally asked Chanyeol. He saw Chanyeol stiffen at the sound of his voice. “Don’t be.”

 

“Do I… Forgive me, sir, do I know you?” Chanyeol whispered.

 

Kris took one of Chanyeol’s hands in his. “You tell me. Do you?”

 

“I don’t want to make assumptions, sir.”

 

Kris smiled, and realized, strangely, that tears were welling in his eyes. “Do you want me to take your blindfold off?”

 

“Whatever suits you, sir,” Chanyeol said meekly.

 

“Chanyeol,” Kris said, and Chanyeol gave a little gasp. “Is that yes?”

 

“Y-yes, sir?” Chanyeol guessed.

 

Kris reached slowly around behind Chanyeol’s head and undid the ties with shaking fingers. He drew the blindfold away and saw that Chanyeol still had his eyes closed. “You can open your eyes,” Kris prompted.

 

“I’m afraid to, sir,” Chanyeol said. “I don’t know what I will do if I’m not right.”

 

“Open your eyes,” Kris commanded, knowing Chanyeol wouldn’t disobey. 

 

He was right. Slowly, Chanyeol lifted his eyelids, staring straight into Kris’s face. He recognized Kris at once and took a stumbling step back. “Y-you’re real? You bought me? You’re here?”

 

“Yes, Chanyeol.” Kris reached out to him, his fingers finding purchase on Chanyeol’s shoulder and pulling him closer. “Yes, it’s me.”

 

“Sir,” Chanyeol gasped, impulsively covering the hand on his shoulder with his own. “I—I didn’t know. I thought I was never going to see you again.”

 

“Were you crying?” Kris asked, knowing he was in real danger of doing so himself.

 

“Yes,” Chanyeol said. “I just wanted to see you, tell you I was sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m sorry too,” Kris said, and Chanyeol, just as Yixing predicted, looked absolutely struck.

 

“It’s not your place to say sorry to me, sir!” he squeaked out, going bright red.

 

Kris laughed, feeling a tear slip down onto his cheek, but finding that he didn’t really care. “I take back what I said about color. Boss was right: red is the right color on you.”

 

Chanyeol blushed harder. “Stop teasing me, sir. Please.”

 

“Sorry,” Kris said again, and Chanyeol squirmed under Kris’s hands. “I mean it, I’m sorry. You were right. I should have bought you long ago.”

 

“Sir…” Chanyeol looked up at him, confused, an uncertain sort of happiness flooding into his eyes. 

 

Kris smiled at him, brushing some hair out of his eyes. He pulled Chanyeol closer until they were almost nose to nose. Kris turned his head, and closed the distance between their lips. He kissed Chanyeol sweetly, wrapping his arms around the toy and holding him close to his body. Chanyeol, after getting over a split second of surprise, kissed back hungrily, his hands finding their way into Kris’s hair and around his waist. They staggered towards the bed unknowingly, bumping into it and crashing down onto it, Chanyeol underneath Kris. They broke apart, and Kris saw that Chanyeol was crying.

 

“What are these for?” Kris asked, wiping away the tears.

 

“You, sir,” Chanyeol said, closing his eyes to Kris’s touch, a happy smile spreading across his face. “They’re for you. Everything I do is for you.”

 

Kris felt his heart swell in his chest, and he didn’t even hate it. “Good boy,” he murmured, and Chanyeol hummed deep in his throat in response. “Good boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you for reading! Please comment if you liked it! Feel free to request things to me on my [Tumblr](http://www.suhos-lotto.tumblr.com/ask) (preferably in the pairings of this fic if you want fucktoy!au haha), and maybe even follow me there. I'm literally always on Tumblr, so sending me asks there is actually the best way to reach me! Thanks again for all the subscribers and everything. I will continue to work hard~!


	3. Baekxing 1

“Are you coming tonight?” Sehun stopped by Yixing’s desk on the way out. 

 

“Coming where?” Yixing asked, feeling a little stupid.

 

“Oh, come on. You’ve seen the posters I put up, surely.”

 

“Oh. The night out at that new-ish club that sells toys.” Yixing nodded, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

 

“So? Are you in?”

 

“I…” Yixing looked down at his desk. He was actually ahead, but he had so many side projects he wanted to finish. “I have so much to do.”

 

“Bullshit. You submitted your report last night. It’s due next week,” Sehun tugged on Yixing’s arm, becoming the whiney little boy that Yixing knew so well. “C’mon, please? You might even find a toy there.”

 

Yixing laughed, and set down his papers. “Okay, okay. Just let me clean up a little.”

 

Minutes later, Yixing found himself ducking into the back of Kris’s car. It was big enough to hold all six of them—Kris, Sehun, Junmyeon, Kyungsoo, Minseok, and him. 

 

“Where are your guys’s toys?” Kyungsoo asked Kris and Junmyeon.

 

“Mine’s being driven over by one of my maids,” Kris replied as he started the car. 

 

“Ooh, we get to meet him!” Sehun said.

 

“What about yours, Junmyeon?” Minseok asked.

 

“He’s sleeping,” Junmyeon said with a light laugh. “I told him what I was doing and asked if he wanted to come, but he respectfully declined.”

 

“Okay, well, Junmyeon will be the first to leave, I predict it,” Sehun said.

 

“Oh? You’re forgetting Yixing,” Kris said, flashing Yixing a look in the rearview mirror.

 

“Now you’re just making me want to prove you wrong,” Yixing said. 

 

The whole car just laughed, and they spent the rest of the ride joking and messing around. 

 

“Oh, shit,” Sehun said when he stepped out of the car. “I’d only seen this place in the day time. It’s… nice.” He wasn’t wrong. The lights were sexy but the building was clean, which made Yixing feel a little bit safer. 

 

They went in together, Sehun grumbling about how he was going to get carded just because he hadn’t put on makeup and so looked a bit baby-faced. 

 

“It’s part of your charm,” Yixing said, entirely seriously, but Sehun took it as a joke and gave him a rather sullen look.

 

Resentment was all forgotten when Kris’s toy showed up in a nice suit and a fancy spiked collar. Yixing had never met him before, but he had a sweet smile and a dorky, doting demeanor that seemed to match Kris very well. He said cheerful hellos, but Yixing saw that he never strayed from Kris’s side; his eyes never left Kris for more than a few moments at a time.

 

“My god, he loves him,” Yixing murmured to Junmyeon.

 

“I don’t know if you’re saying Chanyeol loves Kris or the other way around, but no matter what, I agree,” Junmyeon whispered back. 

 

“What about you and Tao?”

 

“We’re… getting somewhere.” Junmyeon shrugged. “I like him. He makes me happy. I think I make him happy.”

 

Yixing nodded. “That’s good.”

 

“Hey!” It was Sehun again. “I hope you guys aren’t planning on spending tonight sober, because I certainly am not.”

 

“I have to be coherent when I go home,” Junmyeon said. 

 

“I would prefer to… not,” Yixing added, not really sure what he was opposing to.

 

“And you guys are all talking about how old I am,” Minseok scoffed. “Kris?”

 

“You know my answer.” Kris tugged Chanyeol close to his side. “What are you ordering?”

 

Yixing left them to the drinks, uninterested in getting smashed and making himself vulnerable. He found himself strolling along some cages—which had toys in them on display. A few were empty, and Yixing assumed they had been bought, at least for the night. With nothing else to do, Yixing decided to look over the toys, just to see if any caught his eye.

 

He realized that he was circling back closer to the bar, and the closer he got to the bar, the lower the price for the toy was.  _Smart. The closer to the bar, the more likely there are drunk people who are less picky._ Out of curiosity, he walked all the way to the end just to see exactly how bad the cheapest toy could be.  _He’s probably getting old, likely ugly or disfigured, and poorly trained,_ Yixing speculated.

 

He couldn’t have been more wrong. 

 

The toy on the very end was beautiful. He had flawless skin and a doll-like face, and delicate, perfect fingers. His hair was cotton-candy pink, and he wore a little pout on his lips. He was seated on the floor of his cage, back against the wall and legs stretched out in front of him.

 

Yixing read the sign on the cage.

 

_Baekhyun, age 24_

_Height 174 cm_

_Training: high-quality_

_Temperament: temperamental, disagreeable; whiney, often doesn’t follow instructions or talks back_

Yixing understood. It was his attitude that got him put all the way at the end.  _What else could it be? It says his training is good, and he’s small, and my goodness is he pretty._  


“Sir, are you interested…?” A host approached him cautiously. 

 

Yixing glanced at the price—not bad for one hour. “I might be,” he said thoughtfully, continuing to gaze at Baekhyun. The toy raised his head and looked him up and down before curling his lip and turning his head away again.

 

“I don’t mean to disrespect your choice, sir, but there are other, better-behaved toys that you can choose from.”

 

“I don’t mind.” Yixing looked up. “I’ll take him for an hour.”

 

The host pulled out a little portable register. “Cash or card?”

 

Moments later, Yixing had Baekhyun at his side, leading him down to a room. Yixing shut the door gently behind him, watching Baekhhyun carefully.

 

“Why did you take me?” Baekhyun asked, almost dully, sitting on the bed. “You heard that guy, you read the sign. I’m a pain in the ass.”

 

“I tend to believe that those sorts of analysis of behavior are not entirely accurate,” Yixing explained. “I’m not really here for sex, actually. You’re interesting to me.”

 

“Are you some kind of psychologist?” Baekhyun peered at him suspiciously.

 

“What? No. Just interested in why you have ‘high-quality’ training, but you’re listed as ‘temperamental, disagree—‘”

 

“’Disagreeable, whiney, often doesn’t follow instructions, talks back’?” Baekhyun laughed hollowly. “Yeah, I suppose that would be due to my very sarcastic nature.”

 

“They didn’t manage to beat that out of you during your training?”

 

“It’s more like I learned how to suppress it, but then I… changed my mind, I guess.” Baekhyun shrugged.

 

“Changed your mind?” 

 

“It’s a long story.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

Baekhyun laughed again, empty as before. “No. I haven’t told anyone. What makes you think I’d tell a strange man like you?”

 

“Nothing at all,” Yixing agreed. “I thought it might be worth a shot, though.”

 

“So if you’re not here for sex, why  _are_ you here? I don’t mean just in this room, with me, I mean… here. In general.”

 

“At this bar?” Yixing asked. “Oh. My coworkers made me come with them.” He smiled. “I came so that I wouldn’t disappoint.”

 

“Okay, then… why buy an hour with me?” Baekhyun asked. “I mean, I know you said you were interested to find out what I’m like, but like… you’ve done that. Now what?”

 

“Well.” Yixing crossed the room to an armchair and sat down in it. “Now, you can do whatever you want. I figured it probably wasn’t comfortable sitting in that cage with a bunch of people staring at you. You’re human, you know. Not some kind of animal at the zoo. I can buy another hour if you want to nap.”

 

Baekhyun raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sleeping in front of you. Who know’s what you’ll do?”

 

“Fair enough,” Yixing said patiently. “Do what you will, then.” He pulled out his phone. “Actually, I do have one more question for you.”

 

“Yes?” Baekhyun prompted, looking wary.

 

“What do you think will happen to you?” Yixing looked at Baekhyun. “I mean, your future?”

 

“I imagine I’ll stay here, being sold out on occasion for a few hours. When I get too old to be pretty, I’ll be sent away to do physical labor until I’m too weak to work. And then I imagine they’ll send me to a home for old toys, or a training center to help train new toys, or, if I’m lucky, a shelter where I can rest until I die,” Baekhyun said quite blandly. “And that… that will be it.”

 

A pang of sorrow pierced Yixing chest. “You don’t think someone will buy you for good?”

 

“Haven’t you heard? I’m a piece of work. No one would keep me for long.” Baekhyun let out another humorless laugh. “No, I’ll die within the system, being used to do everything I possibly can for people who haven’t done a thing for me. But that’s how it goes.”

 

Yixing watched the impassive way he said all of this, troubled.  _Why do you even bother, sometimes?_ he asked himself.  _You knew he was just going to make you feel sad. And now you’re going to want to buy him._  


He sighed.  _If he’s a reasonable price, then I will. If not… I suppose I’ll just have to live with it._  


＊ ＊ ＊

 

“How much is Baekhyun?” Yixing asked one of the staff.

 

“Baekhyun?” the staff member asked, surprised. “He’s… actually quite affordable. Are you sure…?”

 

“Yes,” Yixing said. “I’m sure I’d want him over another toy.”

 

“O-okay,” the staff member said, looking confused. He pulled out a list and showed Yixing the price. Yixing raised his eyebrows in shock. It was even less than he had expected.  _Well, that’s it. I have to buy him._  


“I’ll take him,” Yixing said, and the staff member lead him to the counter to complete the transaction.

 

“Hey, what are you up to?” Kyungsoo asked, grabbing Yixing’s arm.

 

“I’m buying a toy.”

 

Kyungsoo’s jaw just about hit the floor. “You’re what?”

 

“Buying a toy. His name is Baekhyun. I can introduce you in a moment, if you would like.”

 

Kyungsoo looked him up and down. “Are you sober? Have you even slept with him yet?”

 

“Yes, I’m sober,” Yixing said. “And no, not yet. But he…” Yixing frowned. “He seems… I don’t know. I think he needs my help.”

 

“Are you at least getting a good price?”

 

“Yeah,” Yixing said, and repeated the price to Kyungsoo.

 

“That little? Are you sure he’s even trained?”

 

“Yeah,” Yixing defended. “He’s just… kind of sarcastic, and a lot of people don’t like that. I don’t really mind, though.”

 

Kyungsoo shook his head in disbelief. “Of all people… okay, Xing. Whatever. Go ahead. I’m telling Sehun and  _he’s_ the one that’s never going to let you hear the end of it.”

 

“You’re horrible,” Yixing replied, and then turned to the staff member and nodded. They continued to the counter, where Yixing paid the club. 

 

“One moment,” the staff member said. “He’s just packing up a few things.”

 

“No worries,” Yixing said, taking a seat. He didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, Baekhyun came out from behind the counter with a small bag and a surprised look on his face.

 

“Oh.” He stopped short when he saw Yixing. 

 

“Hey,” Yixing said. “Are you ready?”

 

“I… I guess so,” Baekhyun said.

 

“If you have any troubles, please don’t hesitate to contact us,” the staff member said, bowing to Yixing.

 

“Thank you,” Yixing said, “but I doubt that will be necessary.” He stood and offered an arm to Baekhyun.

 

“I shouldn’t—that’s not what I—”

 

Yixing rolled his eyes. “You’re not a slave to me. Hold on to me, I don’t want to lose you in the crowd.” Baekhyun hesitated, and then wrapped his hands around Yixing’s arm. “I’m afraid we’ll be taking a taxi home tonight. I bussed to work, and then caught a ride from a friend from work to here. I’m also afraid to say that I wasn’t actually prepared to buy anyone today, and I gave my maid the day off. So I don’t really have anything for you at my home. Once we get there, I can set something up for you. My apologies.”

 

“It’s… it’s fine,” Baekhyun mumbled, clearly unsure what else he was supposed to say. “Um… I—I’m not sure I got your name,” he said softly.

 

“It’s Yixing,” Yixing said, “and you don’t need to call me anything else if you don’t want to.”

 

“Okay.” The answer was uncertain.

 

They waited out on the sidewalk for a taxi to come. In his scant robe, Baekhyun was shivering.

 

“Are you cold?” Yixing asked, quickly shedding his heavy overcoat. “Take this.”

 

“I couldn’t!” Baekhyun looked horrorstruck. “I may have no manners, but even I won’t go that far.”

 

“I’m serious. I’m wearing like four layers right now. I’m fine. Take it.” Yixing held it out to him. Baekhyun just shook his head. Yixing sighed, and moved behind Baekhyun to wrap the coat around his shoulders. 

 

“…Thank you,” Baekhyun mumbled, holding the coat tighter to his body. Yixing beamed at him.

 

One slightly awkward taxi ride later, they arrived in front of Yixing’s house. Yixing led Baekhyun inside, flicking on the lights. 

 

“Are you hungry?” Yixing asked.

 

“I had dinner,” Baekhyun said.

 

“If you are hungry, or if you need anything really, tell me. I can’t read minds. I need you to let me know.”

 

“Okay,” Baekhyun agreed.

 

“I haven’t done up a guest room. I can make one now really quick while you shower and get settled in, or you can just sleep on my bed tonight, and we can worry about the other room tomorrow,” Yixing offered, kind of hoping Baekhyun would just take the latter.

 

“I don’t want you to go through the bother of finding sheets and all at this hour,” Baekhyun said, almost grudgingly (Yixing guessed that Baekhyun wasn’t normally so considerate to strangers, but that he was trying to be because Yixing was being nice to him). “I’ll sleep on your bed.”

 

“Okay. Then, my room’s this way.” Yixing walked down the hall, Baekhyun following after him. 

 

"I wasn't trying to get sympathy by answering your questions," Baekhyun said once they were in Yixing's room. "If you discover that I'm as annoying as they say, I won't hold it against you if you return me. People usually do."

 

"I'm not planning on returning you," Yixing said. "Try not to be obnoxious, just for my sake, but I doubt you really are." He didn't turn to look at Baekhyun but he could feel him rolling his eyes. He chose to ignore it. "I'm going to shower. You can, too, if you want to."

 

"I did just a couple hours ago. They like to keep us clean."

 

"Okay, then..." Yixing looked around. "Uh, don't go anywhere.  You can read or something. Sorry."

 

Baekhyun shrugged indifferently and took a seat next to his bag on the floor. Yixing, after a moment’s of uncomfortable hesitation, shut the door the bathroom to wash.

 

  
_Ah, what am I going to do with him?_ Yixing wondered to himself as he rinsed his hair.  _Oh, good one. He’s a_ fuck _toy, Yixing, guess what those are for? And yet…_ He had said he wasn’t here for sex.  _Like, do I even want to fuck him?_ There was no doubt that he was pretty, and that if Yixing was younger and they met under different circumstances, he would not hesitate to jump all over that. But as it was…

 

  
_Well. We’ll just have to wait and see._ Yixing stepped out of the shower.  _Who knows. Maybe someone at the office will have advice for me. They certainly don’t hesitate to give it, unwarranted or otherwise, so at least I won’t be without it._  


Baekhyun was pretty much exactly where Yixing left him, only he had found a comic book and was skimming through it confusedly. He looked up when Yixing came in. “What language is this?”

 

“That would be Chinese,” Yixing said, going to his closet for a shirt to hide his amusement.

 

“Yeah, but I can usually recognize Chinese.”

 

“Hm. Show me the cover?” Yixing turned, and Baekhyun held it up for him to see. “Oh. That’s in traditional. You’re probably used to seeing simplified.”

 

“Oh. What a fussy language.” Baekhyun closed the book and crawled over to put it back in its spot on the bookshelf. “Korean is easier.”

 

“I can’t argue with you there,” Yixing said with a laugh, tugging his shirt over his head. “Okay, I’m tired. Are you good to go? Need anything?”

 

“I’m fine,” Baekhyun said, picking himself up off the floor. Yixing slipped into bed, waiting until Baekyun was situated at his feet before turning off the light. 

 

“Are you cold? I can pull out an extra blanket.”

 

“‘M fine,” Baekhyun said. Yixing wondered if he was refusing on principal of not being more indebted to him, as it was kind of cold.

 

“Okay,” Yixing responded dubiously. “Goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight.”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Yixing’s internal clock woke him at around eight in the morning. Knowing his maid was on break, he carefully wriggled out of bed, taking care not to disturb Baekhyun, and began puttering around his room to find something warm to wear before going to make breakfast. He thought he was being quiet. Maybe Baekhyun just sensed something, because as Yixing was slipping on a warmer shirt, he suddenly sat bolt upright.

 

“Oh no!” he exclaimed as soon as he saw Yixing. “Oh no, I’m supposed to wake you in the morning! I’m so sorry I overslept, sir!” Bleary-eyed and still half-asleep, Baekhyun stumbled out of bed and tripped onto his knees, where he stayed. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I won’t be bad again.”

 

Yixing was utterly baffled. “Um… It’s fine. I didn’t expect you to wake me. Are… are you feeling okay?”

 

Yixing’s own confused tone must have made Baekhyun remember something. When Baekhyun sat up, his eyes were less panicked, though unfocused and more readable than they had been the day before. “I… I’m fine. Sometimes I think I’m… sometimes I think I still live at this… this other place. Sorry to have scared you. I’m still… I’m still sorry for being bad though, even though it looks like you’re not going to punish me.”

 

“Punish? What for?”

 

“Well, typically I’m supposed to get up first, maybe warm a blanket for you, iron your clothes, make breakfast if the maid doesn’t do that. And I’m supposed to wake you up.” Baekhyun shrugged. 

 

“Okay, well… you don’t have to do that. I usually get up pretty early on my own. And um…” Yixing looked him over. “...about being bad—one mistake doesn’t make you bad. Two mistakes, ten, a hundred, they don’t make you bad. Maybe something you did was a bad action, but that doesn’t make you bad on the whole.”

 

Baekhyun looked a little bewildered. “That’s a… new way of looking at it.”

 

“You said you thought you were someplace else. What place?”

 

Yixing could literally see Baekhyun shut down. He turned inward; his face darkened, his jaw hardened, his eyes became blank. “Forget I said that,” he said stiffly. “…Please. Sir.”

 

“You don’t have to call me ‘sir’.” Yixing sighed. “Are you ever going to tell me?”

 

“Probably not,” Baekhyun said in a rueful tone of voice. “Probably not.”

 

“Well… okay. I’ll respect your privacy. But I just…” Yixing shook his head. “If there’s anything I can help with, or—or if there’s anything you want to talk about—”

 

“I’m fine,” Baekhyun all but snapped. 

 

Breakfast was a rather terse event. Baekhyun was back to his closed-off, surly self. Baekhyun washed the plates, leaving Yixing to think miserably on exactly how their relationship, regardless of romance, was going to go. 

 

“I basically work a nine-to-five on the weekdays,” Yixing finally said. “But since it’s the weekend, I have the day free. I… listen, I really…”

 

“Don’t know what to do with me?” Baekhyun put the last plate away. “Yeah. I’ve heard that before, too. Anyone with a scrap of morals usually gets thrown off by my dissimilarity to other toys. It said my training was high-quality—that was just the preliminary stuff. I was bought very quickly, as soon as I passed the first round of tests, and my owner then took my training into his own hands, so yeah, I’m a little different. I can still list my training as good because really, the first round is the only thing that matters on the forms. Usually what happens is after a while, you’re going to realize I’m not going to openly say, ‘Yes, Master, I’m here for your use,’ and you’re just going to take matters into your own hands. I’ll likely resist on days that I don’t feel like it, and it will annoy you, and you’ll return me. I’m just forewarning you.”

 

Yixing didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t return him, but he didn’t know what he  _could_ do with him. Setting toys free was borderline illegal—basically, the most recent owner was charged with neglect, unless they pleaded that their toy had run away from them. Unless there was a heaping pile of evidence that proved contrary, then the toy would get in trouble. Laws around abuse of toys were kind of loose, so it wouldn’t matter if the toy had said that they had been put in danger when living with that person. In any case, if he told Baekhyun he could go free, not only would law enforcement be after  _his_ ass, but it wasn’t like Baekhyun could just start a new life. His papers marked him as a toy. There was no way he could make a living on his own without belonging to a club or a brothel or something similar, or being owned. 

 

“I don’t know,” Yixing said finally. “I don’t think I could return you, If you don’t want sex, then that’s fine with me. I’m not planning on ‘taking matters into my own hands.’ But you know I can’t just let you roam around, because… well. I’m sure you know what happens to toys that are unaccounted for.”

 

Something very, very sinister crossed Baekhyun’s face. “Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. “Yes, I do.”

 

“So, um,” Yixing continued, trying to ignore the sinister look Baekhyun’s face had taken. “Well. A few of my friends also own toys. I don’t know if you think you’d bond better with them than with me, but in any case I want you to be comfortable and feel like you have people to connect with. I don’t want you to die in the system like you were saying you would. It’s probably not much, trying to fix one small dot in a whole population, but… I don’t know. Maybe it just makes me feel better.”

 

“So in the end, you’re selfish, just like everyone else,” Baekhyun said thoughtfully, seeming uncaring if he got hit for saying it. Not that Yixing would. Maybe he was finally picking up with vibe that he could get away with pretty much anything. “You just choose to show it in gentler ways. Interesting.”

 

“Well… yes,” Yixing said. “I suppose you could put it that way. You’re not wrong when you say I’m selfish. Of course I am; all humans are, I think.”

 

“Well, at least you’re self-aware,” Baekhhyun said in some kind of fake-congratulatory tone. He began to make his way out of the kitchen. “I think I’m going to read, unless you have something you’d rather I do.”

 

“I, uh, no. Go ahead. I’m gonna… I’m gonna go on a walk.” Yixing stood suddenly. “I’ll write my cell number and leave on the counter. Use the home phone if you need to contact me, okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun said over his shoulder.

 

With nothing left really to say, Yixing scribbled down his number and headed for the door, pulling a big coat around him. “Stay safe!” No reply. He didn’t really expect one.

 

Yixing wandered the neighborhood.  _I wonder what exactly his past is._ Baekhyun had said something about “the place he was before” and things. Did he have a particularly bad owner, and now he wouldn’t trust anyone? Yixing sincerely hoped that that wasn’t the case. For now, he would just have to take care of the toy as best he could, try to be patient, try to be respectful, and see where it lead. There was something kind of endearing about how angry Baekhyun seemed to be at everything, and Yixing hoped he could help him open up a bit. Maybe talking to other toys  _would_ help. Maybe he should call Junmyeon or Kris to ask. In any case, he really wanted Baekhyun to like him and like staying with him.  _It’s hard to be a source of comfort if he just keeps pushing everyone and everything away._  


 

Yixing looked down at his phone, and realized in all his tangental thinking, he’d been out for almost two hours. If he wanted to call Kris or Junmyeon now… well, it would have to wait until later. He didn’t want to leave Baekhyun on his own for so long.

 

As if on cue, his phone began to ring, the ID saying it was his own home phone.

 

“Hello? Baekhyun?”

 

“Where… where are you?” 

 

“Just a few blocks from home.”

 

“I… are you coming back?”

 

“Yes. Of course I am. I was about to head in. Are you okay?” Yixing asked in concern.

 

Baekhyun’s tone changed, becoming a little colder and even sullen. “No, I’m fine. I was just wondering if you left because you were mad or something. It’s happened before.”

 

“I wasn’t mad,” Yixing reassured softly, smiling sadly to himself at the way Baekhyun put all his defenses back up so quickly. “I’ll be home in five.”

 

“Okay,” Baekhyun said, and hung up.

 

Kind of laughing to himself, Yixing made his way back home.  _Okay. Maybe I am wanted a little bit after all._  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you for reading!! I hope you guys enjoyed it. As always, please leave comments or come yell at me on my Tumblr here . If you have any requests, let me know and I'll see if I can fit them in~


	4. Xiuhan 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the long hiatus OTL vball has been busy. We did win league and districts though ^^ so it wasn't for nothing

Minseok sighed, tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel of his car as he waited for the light to change. It had been an eventful day at work. Yixing confirmed that he had bought a toy, and everyone in the office went ballistic. Sehun, Minseok was pretty sure, nearly busted his skull when he got a nod from the source of the information Kyungsoo had rambled to him the Friday night before, and he hadn’t seen the boy for the rest of the day. 

 

Minseok himself had been pretty calm, he had to say. He had just kind of looked Yixing up and down once and said, “You’re full of surprises,” to which Yixing had shrugged while trying to hide a smile. 

 

“You know you’re getting old when…” Minseok mumbled to himself, stifling a yawn as the light finally turned green. 

 

As he pulled into his driveway, a sort of half-ice, half-rain began to fall. Tired and hoping that the sky would stop shitting on his entire life before he had to actually do something proactive like put chains on the wheels of his car, Minseok trudged into his house, now adding cold onto the layer of exhaustion.

 

"Welcome home." His maid was at the door to greet him. "Dinner is almost ready."

 

"Thank you." Minseok have her his coat. "Do you think this rain is going to stop? It kind of seems like it's going to accumulate on the roads and freeze."

 

His maid looked out the window. "I think you may just have to put chains on your tires."

 

Minseok smiled. "You know me too well. Alright. I'm sorry, could I have my coat back? I'll go out and do it now."

 

And so Minseok went back outside into the wet and cold to struggle with fitting chains onto his tires. While he was at it, he dug out the salt he used to add traction to at least his driveway and sidewalk. Already the ground was slippery, and he went out from to spread the salt along the front walk that led to his door. He was bent over and facing away from the street when he felt that someone was behind him. 

 

He looked up and saw a skinny boy with thin clothing slowly making his way down the road.  _He's a toy, isn't he?_  The boy was soaking wet and shivering.  _I can't just let him stay out in the cold like this._  


 

"Hey," Minseok called. 

 

The boy looked up, wide-eyed, looking a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. "M-me?"

 

"Yeah. Do you... Do you want to come in? You look very cold, and this rain isn't good for anyone's health."

 

"I... Okay." The boy turned and walked toward him. "Thank you, sir."

 

"What's your name?" Minseok asked as they ducked under the front porch. 

 

“L—Luhan," he said, his teeth chattering. 

 

"Nice to meet you, Luhan," Minseok said as the maid pulled the door open. "I'm Minseok."

 

"Who is this?" The maid asked. 

 

"This is Luhan, and I found him outside, and we're going to let him stay the night because it's very cold outside and he might die otherwise," Minseok explained, eyeing Luhan when he said the last bit, watching to see if he seemed averse to the idea. 

 

Luhan just looked grateful to be somewhere warm and dry, so Minseok figured it was fine. 

 

"Shall I go find some clothes for him?" his maid asked. 

 

"Yes, and something to dry off with?" Minseok turned to Luhan. "You could take a quick shower if you wanted."

 

Luhan looked scared. "No, I couldn't possibly—you're already being so kind."

 

Minseok smiled. "Alright then, but if you want to later, you can." He turned back to his maid. "Can you see if the others will make a guest room for him?"

 

The maid bowed, and hurried off in search of clothes. 

 

"Others?" Luhan asked softly. 

 

"Other maids," Minseok said. "I'm afraid you're going to have to stay here for the moment, because you're dripping and I don't want to leave them a trail of water to clean up."

 

“I’m sorry!" Luhan squeaked immediately, as if he could help that he was dripping rainwater onto the floor. 

 

"No, it's not your fault." Minseok smiled. 

 

"So... How would you like me to repay you, sir?" Luhan asked. 

 

“Repay?”

 

“Like… you know.” Luhan fidgeted. 

 

“Oh! No, you don’t have to worry about that.” Minseok waved him away. “That’s not why I asked you in. You just looked cold.”

 

Luhan looked dubious, but didn’t really reply. Luckily, the maid came back with a fluffy towel and dry clothes for Luhan before Minseok had to think of something else to say. 

 

"Once you're somewhat dry, you can step in here to change," Minseok said, gesturing to the half-bath just down the hall. "I'll wait outside for you."

 

"O-okay," Luhan agreed, taking the towel with shaking hands and using it to squeeze some of the water out of his clothes and hair. Once he was dry enough to walk without leaving puddles after each step, he took the clothes too and all but scurried into the bathroom.

 

“He seems nice,” the maid said softly. “But shy.”

 

“Yes,” Minseok whispered back. “Treat him with kindness, okay?”

 

“Of course.” The maid retreated to the depths of the house to start preparing for their guest.

 

Minseok leaned back against the wall opposite to the door of the bathroom. He watched the door, thinking. Luhan, like many toys, was very pretty, but also very small. It worried Minseok because he didn’t seem like he would be quite able to defend himself if he ever had to. 

 

The door opened, and Luhan came out of the bathroom. He had clearly tried to towel dry his hair, because it was all over the place. Luhan clutched the towel in his hands, which he had bunched up.

 

“I—I wrapped my clothes in this because they’re still wet—what should I do with…?”

 

Minseok outstretched his hands. “Give them to me, I’ll drop them off in the laundry room as we go by. Dinner should be almost ready. You look like you could use some warm soup.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Luhan murmured, shakily handing over the towel. “Really, thank you so much. You don’t have to—you don’t have to do any of this.”

 

“Of course I do,” Minseok said, waving him away. “Come on, follow me.” He led Luhan through his house, tossing the bundle of towel and clothing into a laundry basket as they went by before finally reaching the dining room. “I’ll have them washed, and I’ll return them to you in the morning.”

 

“Thank you,” Luhan repeated, gazing around with wide eyes. He still looked skittish, like he was worried this was all a test and he was going to be punished for accepting Minseok’s hospitality. 

 

Rich chicken noodle soup had been prepared for dinner. Despite his size, Luhan ate well, shyly accepting the second serving Minseok made him take. 

 

“This is so good,” Luhan kept saying. “Thank you so much.”

 

“Luhan,” Minseok said, setting down his spoon. “When was the last time you had a solid meal?”

 

Luhan shrugged, unaware of the concern behind Minseok’s words. “I don’t know, sir. A few weeks, probably.”

 

“Hm. Do you belong to anybody?” Minseok asked.

 

“No.” Luhan shook his head. “Not a person. Not a club, or a brothel.”

 

“Why… why don’t you go to some kind of club? I’m sure they’ll take you in, and it’s probably safer.”

 

“I don’t… I don’t trust people, usually. I’m afraid.”

 

“Then… why did you trust me?” Minseok asked.

 

Luhan gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I dunno, sir. You seemed nice, and I was cold and desperate.”

 

“Promise you’ll stay and get a good night’s sleep? For me? If I wake up in the morning and you’re gone…” 

 

“I promise,” Luhan said sweetly. “I could definitely use a safe, warm place to sleep one night.”

 

Minseok smiled back at him, but he was pretty sure his own smile didn’t reach his eyes, either. “Have you eaten enough?”

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

“I’ll show you to your room, then. I usually sleep early because…” Minseok laughed. “Because I’m getting old, I guess. I do have to get up around eight to go to work, though, and I would like to see you off in the morning.”

 

“I usually get up early,” Luhan said. “It won’t be a problem.”

 

“Good.” Minseok stood, and maids came in the clear the table. “Come with me then.”

 

“You said you were old, sir?” Luhan asked quietly. “You don’t look old. You look quite young, actually, if you don’t mind me saying.”

 

“Thank you,” Minseok said with a little laugh. “No, I suppose I’m not  _old_ old. I’m just older than most of my friends. I’m twenty-six.”

 

“I am, too, sir,” Luhan said. “I don’t think we’re that old at all. We still have time in our lives.”

 

“It’s comforting to hear,” Minseok said with a little smile. “Here’s your room. I’m just down the hall.” He pointed to his door. “If you need something tonight, please don’t hesitate to tell me, or at least ring for a maid. I believe there are pajamas on the bed. Are you sure you don’t want to take a shower?”

 

“I’m sure,” Luhan said with a shake of his head. “Thank you very much.” He bowed. “Sleep well, sir.”

 

“You, too,” Minseok replied, turning to go to his room. “Goodnight.”

 

Luhan slipped into the guest room and closed the door gently. Minseok stood in the hallway halfway between his room and Luhan’s, just thinking. 

 

_It’s too bad he’ll be gone tomorrow. I kind of like him. He’s sweet._

* * *

 

The next morning, Luhan was already seated at the table when Minseok came in. To be honest, Minseok had almost expected to be told that Luhan had gone away in the middle of the night. Relief flooded into his veins when he saw the toy sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

 

“Good morning, sir,” Luhan greeted. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Yes, I did. Did you?” Minseok took the seat opposite from him.

 

“I did. Thank you.” Luhan took a sip of his coffee. “I will leave when you do,” he continued. “I don’t want to be any more of a bother. I looked outside—it’s cold, but clear, so I think I will be just fine.”

 

“Okay,” Minseok said, a little startled by the abrupt change of topic.  _You knew he was going to be leaving. Don’t worry about him; if he says he’s going to be fine, then you have to trust that._ Minseok knew he would still worry, though. It’s what he did—he cared about everyone he met.

 

They ate quietly, and then Minseok went to change into his work clothes. When he came to the door, he saw Luhan back in his old clothes, waiting.

 

“Wait, Luhan—you don’t have a jacket. Take—take this one. Please. I’m going to worry about you freezing to death if you don’t.” Minseok pushed the hoodie into Luhan’s arms. “And—” He looked around for a pad of paper and a pen, and quickly copied down his address and phone number, folding the paper and giving it to Luhan as well. “If you ever find yourself in trouble, please contact me, okay? I don’t mind.”

 

Luhan looked shocked and intrigued. “And I don’t have to pay you back,” he confirmed disbelievingly.

 

“No.” Minseok smiled. “Okay… I have to be off to work. Please take care.”

 

“I will, sir. Thank you again for everything.”

 

And just like that, they parted ways. Minseok went to work and Luhan went back off into the world, and if Minseok was a little bit dazed over the next couple days, no one mentioned it.

 

Somehow, things seemed a little more mundane.  _I did a good thing. You know? I did a good thing, so why do I feel worse?_ Minseok tried to blame it on the weather, which, anyone could agree, was doing its darnedest to force even the cheeriest person into deep seasonal depression. But some lurking feeling in his chest was trying to signal otherwise.

 

Perhaps five days or so after Minseok had sent Luhan off, he was driving home. He stopped at that same stop light, and chanced a glance down an alley. In the darkness, only faultily illuminated by a single shoddy streetlamp, he noticed figures down the alley, who seemed to be struggling with one another. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that a few of the figures were ganging up on the one. 

 

A car honked behind him and Minseok jumped, realizing the light had changed. After a moment’s deliberation, he pulled through the intersection and then parked on the side of the road. It was sleeting again, and Minseok pulled his hood over his head, locking his car before heading to investigate.

 

He wasn’t really sure what he was expecting. The one figure had just looked so small, he almost believed it was a kid. Minseok didn’t want to live with knowing he could have made a difference. His morals, unlike Yixing’s, were just barely high enough for him to know the right from the wrong, but not high enough to do the right thing out of the goodness of his heart—rather, he did it because he was afraid it would come back to bite him in the butt. So really, he was just covering his own ass.

 

Either way, he walked quietly down the alley, the dark lighting serving for enough of a cover until he got close enough to see the figures in more detail. 

 

Luhan was desperately trying to fend off three larger men. To his credit, he was doing pretty well, seeming to have gotten a few punches in. His lip was split and his cheek was swollen, and he had a cut above his eyebrow. His eyes weren’t focusing so well, and Minseok suspected concussion. Without really thinking, Minseok shed his coat, and, cursing his fitted work shirt, flung himself into the fray in attempts to pull the other men off of Luhan. Though Minseok was short, what he lacked in height, he made up for in muscle. He barreled into one man with his arms outstretched, successfully pushing him away. 

 

“Who the fuck are you?” he choked out as Minseok shoved him back.

 

“I’m his owner!” Minseok blurted, just saying the first thing that came to mind.

 

“Well, you should keep better track of your toy—and teach him some manners. He was just wandering down the street, not looking where he was going, and bumped into my friend here,” another man said, jerking a thumb at the third man with one hand while wiping sweat off his forehead with the other. “He didn’t say sorry, just kept looking at the ground and shaking.”

 

“Please be assured that I’ll teach him a lesson myself,” Minseok said coldly. “You can leave now.”

 

“Your toy  _hurt_ me,” the third man interjected, pointing at a bruise on his jaw. “You aren’t going to say something about that?”

 

“I apologize.” Minseok gave him an unfeeling look. “Would you like me to get you an ice pack? Or should I call the police on some thugs abusing my toy?” This last one was an empty threat, as Minseok had absolutely no grounds for that, seeing as Luhan didn’t even live with him. But, of course, they didn’t know that.

 

“C’mon, man,” the first guy mumbled. “That’ll just be trouble. Let’s get going.”

 

The third man spat in Luhan’s direction and turned to walk away with his friends. “I hope you get control of that thing,” he called over his shoulder. “He’s fucking dangerous.”

 

“Let’s go, let’s go,” Minseok hissed, scrambling to find his jacket and bundling it around Luhan. “You’re soaked, take it,” he added when the toy protested weakly. “You don’t need to catch something on top of all this. Can you walk?” Luhan only whimpered, trying to get to his feet but only managing to raise himself up a few inches before slumping against Minseok’s leg. “Okay, that’s fine.” Minseok crouched down, scooping Luhan up into his arms. “Hold on to me.” As they walked back out to the sidewalk, where the streetlamp stood flickering, the cuts on Luhan’s face became more distinguishable. As Luhan looked up at Minseok with foggy eyes, Minseok felt his heart break a little. Tear tracks cut clean trails through the blood on his face, and his breathing was shallow. It took Minseok a second to realize that Luhan was trying to say something. He stopped walking and put his ear closer to Luhan’s mouth.

 

“Thank you, sir,” Luhan rasped out. 

 

“You’re welcome,” Minseok whispered back, and Luhan closed his eyes, his head lolling back as Minseok struggled to unlock his car and open the door. He gingerly slid a now unresponsive Luhan into the passenger seat, making sure his neck was supported before buckling him in and running around to the other side to get into the driver’s seat.

 

It was only once he was in his car that he realized he too was dripping wet. Minseok’s teeth chattered as he turned up the heat, signaling to get back out into traffic. The ride was short, as they were only about a block away from his house. Knowing he needed to stabilize Luhan’s head, but unsure of how to do it, Minseok tried his best not to jerk him around as he carried him up to the front door, using his hip to lean on the doorbell.

 

His maid shrieked when she opened the door.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled to her. “This is going to take you ages to clean, I’m so sorry. Will you spread a couple towels on a bed?”

 

She ran ahead to prepare the bed as asked and Minseok made his way more slowly down the hall.

 

“Sir?” Luhan croaked out.

 

“Shh,” Minseok shushed him immediately. “Don’t talk. You’re safe now, okay? You’re safe.”

 

To Minseok’s surprise, tears came leaking out of Luhan’s eyes. “Please don’t say things unless you really mean them, sir.”

 

Confused, Minseok didn’t know how to respond. “I do mean it, Luhan,” he said stutteringly. “I’ll keep you safe, okay? Close your eyes. I think you have a concussion and the lights are bright in here.” They reached the room and Minseok ducked inside, careful not to hit Luhan’s head on the doorframe. “Thank you,” he said to the maid as she helped him arrange Luhan on the bed. “Will you bring me a few towels and some disinfectant and gauze bandages, please?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Luhan, I need to go out and get my things from the car while she does that—don’t move, okay?”

 

“Sir!” Luhan called as soon as Minseok made to move away. “Please, sir, don’t leave. Please.”

 

Shocked by the note of desperation in Luhan’s voice, Minseok turned back to the bed. “Okay, okay. Shh, don’t worry. I won’t go anywhere, I’ll stay right here. Please don’t move, you’ll hurt yourself more.” Unsure of how else to reassure him, he look Luhan’s hand in his. It seemed to work; Luhan stilled, letting Minseok warm his freezing hands as they waited for the maid to come back.

 

The maid rushed back into the room with her arms full of first aid supplies. “Thank you so much,” Minseok said, accepting the various items. “Could you please get my briefcase and things from my car? I believe it’s still unlocked.”

 

“I’ll lock it after,” the maid agreed, once again leaving the room. 

 

Minseok first cut a small paper stitch, quickly mopping up the blood around Luhan’s mouth. Using a gauze pad so that the antiseptic wouldn’t get into Luhan’s mouth, he sprayed the cut, quickly pressing a soft cotton ball to the wound to dry it. He found a fresh piece of gauze to press to the cut, and then used the stitch to keep it in place. Next, he cleaned up the cut on Luhan’s eyebrow, and then applied a soothing balm to the bruise under his left eye. 

 

Minseok covered Luhan’s right eye. “Look at me, Luhan.” The toy obeyed, sniffling slightly. “Can you see me?” 

 

“Yes.”

 

“Blurrier than normal?”

 

“A little?”

 

“Okay.” Minseok switched his hand to Luhan’s left eye, so that he could only see through his right eye. “And this eye?”

 

Luhan blinked a few times, then pronounced, “Normal on that side.”

 

“Okay, you must have gotten punched here,” Minseok said, tapping under the bruise. “Close both eyes, and then open when I tell you to, okay? I’ll stay right here. I’m just trying to see if both your pupils contract when exposed to light.” Luhan sniffled again as he did as he was told. Minseok watched the clock, waiting a few minutes, and then said, “Okay, open.” He bent over the toy. Both of Luhan’s pupils shrunk almost immediately.

 

“Why are you sniffling?”

 

“I don’t know,” Luhan said. “It’s just on this side—” He tapped the outside of his left nostril.

 

“It might be a sinus problem, then,” Minseok pondered, scrabbling at the dust in the back of his brain in attempts to recover what he learned in freshman year Biology 101. “In which case, as long as you stay still and rest a lot, you should be up and about in just a couple days. Sinus bruises feel a lot like concussions, but they don’t take as long to heal, from my experience. Well, that’s about all I can do for you in terms of the medical. I wasn’t pre-med. I was just a psych major, which is how I got into HR. But I did have to take an intro bio course, so I sort of know what I’m doing. Do you want to sleep? You can clean up more later if you want.”

 

“Sleep sounds nice,” Luhan murmured. 

 

“Okay.” Minseok carefully tugged off Luhan’s shoes. The toy was too tired to argue. “I’ll check in on you in a couple hours. If you’re awake, I’ll bring you something to eat. If not, you can eat in the morning. It’s Friday, so I can stay home with you tomorrow.”

 

“Thank you,” Luhan mumbled as Minseok turned off the lights.

 

* * *

 

Luhan hadn’t been awake when Minseok had checked on him the night before, so the next morning, Minseok got up early and tiptoed into Luhan’s room. The toy stirred when Minseok pulled up a chair beside him.

 

“Good morning,” Minseok whispered softly. “How are you feeling?”

 

Luhan groaned. After a moment’s assessment of the state of his body, he replied, “Uh… hungry?”

 

“Well, that’s good. How’s your head?”

 

“Better, I think,” Luhan said.

 

“That’s good too. How about we get some breakfast, and then you can take a shower?”

 

Luhan nodded and sat up, and Minseok watched in apprehension as the smaller man tried to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. He slipped, and would have hit the floor if Minseok hadn’t been ready to catch him. He carefully lowered them both to the floor.

 

“Oh,” Minseok said softly as Luhan looked at him with scared eyes. “What am I going to do with you? You’re always getting into trouble like this.”

 

Luhan lowered his eyes.

 

“What is it?”

 

“I—well—you…” Luhan picked at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. “You could always just keep me, sir,” he mumbled.

 

Minseok blinked in shock. “But—I don’t want to take advantage of you just because you’re in need.”

 

“I like you,” Luhan murmured. “It’s been a while since someone’s treated me like a person. I… I felt like somebody that night when I stayed with you. That’s… that’s why I hung around this neighborhood. I kept telling myself, you know, he was just being nice. Now is time to move on. But something kept holding me back.”

 

Minseok felt himself flush. “I—well—as long as you—I mean—that—” He took a breath. “I would like that, Luhan. Your company would be nice. It really would.”

 

Luhan smiled at him as Minseok helped him to his feet. “Thank you, sir. I don’t know why, but you make me feel safe.”

 

“I’m really glad,” Minseok said as Luhan clung to his waist, using Minseok’s whole body as a crutch as they made slow progress to the door. Minseok wrapped an arm around Luhan to help support him. He felt a burst of affection for the toy he barely knew, and suddenly he understood Yixing a little bit.  _Sometimes, you just know when someone is going to make your life a happier place._  


And from the crescent-eyed smile that a certain someone was giving him, Minseok didn’t have a doubt in his mind about what he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading! As always, comments are always nice ^^ if you have requests or yells or really anything (life stories? A crush you want to rant about?) you can always find me on my tumblr [here](www.suhos-lotto.tumblr.com/ask)!  
> If you haven't already and if you like my writing style, you can check out my Got7 WIP [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7004479)~


	5. Chensoo 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um lol congrats 2 me for being the actual literal worst the last time i updated this was literally during the volleyball season agskdjf I'm so sorry???? I have 0 excuses but uh here it is! OTL

Anyone who thought about it would have to admit that Kyungsoo didn’t get enough appreciation. Everyone always said Yixing was the nicest in the office, but Yixing was often too polite to stick his nose in everyone’s business and make them do what was best for them. Kyungsoo, on the other hand, was a firm believer in practicing tough love, but what that meant was that Kyungsoo ended up loving more in the end.

 

Either way, when Kyungsoo came into the office with two huge casseroles of noodles for everyone, there wasn’t a single complaint about the tough part of him, or none, at least, that Kyungsoo heard. He just grinned at everyone, letting Yixing and Junmyeon coo over his heart shaped smile, and went about his day. 

 

The truth was, Kyungsoo did love the most. He was a total hardass, but he did it with good intentions. Too many people were gentle, and it often led to dysfunction because people liked to skirt around the truth in the name of being polite or respectful. Kyungsoo was more than prepared to yell, slap, punch, kick, and bite his way through a situation if it mattered enough to him. Usually in that order. Usually.

 

However, this behavior tended to lead Kyungsoo to being misunderstood. People thought he was funny, but he often found that no one wanted necessarily to be best friends with him. Kris and Junmyeon were close, and Yixing and Xiumin often spent time together, and Sehun was young enough to have a best friend outside of their department. So that left Kyungsoo, and his cooking.

 

And so, for the past six months or so, Kyungsoo had been saving up for a toy. He knew that it was kind of pathetic, to want to buy one to make himself feel less lonely even though the toy had no choice, and he knew also that it was kind of a crapshoot, as personality was difficult to discern in the few minutes he would have to choose when he was at the shelter.

 

But he’d started saving and hadn’t ever stopped, and what else was he going to spend the money on? He’d already bought enough wild cooking supplies to last a lifetime. He liked his wardrobe, his house, his computer, his TV. He didn’t want to take time off work to just travel by himself.

 

He didn’t tell anyone about it because they’d just tease him for being softhearted or something. After work one Thursday, he stopped by a shelter on the way home—it was one that often hosted parties, and it had a good reputation.

 

“Hello, sir,” a worker greeted. “How can I help you?”

 

“Um, I’m here for a toy. I’m hoping for one that has good training but also a personality? Preferably one that likes food, because I cook a lot,” Kyungsoo stuttered out.

 

“What gender?” 

 

“Uh, male, if possible?”

 

“Follow me.”

 

The employee led Kyungsoo down rows of rooms. The rooms had a window wall the faced the hallway, and the toys watched curiously as Kyungsoo passed, some even going up so close to the windows that their breath fogged the glass. 

 

They reached a room where a dark-haired boy sat facing away from the hall.

 

The worker knocked gently on the glass door before pushing it open. “Dae?”

 

To Kyungsoo’s surprise, the toy wasn’t scowling when he turned around. He was _smiling_ , and his lips curled up like a cat’s—Kyungsoo almost expected to see fluffy ears peeking out from his hair. 

 

“Hello, sir!” he said almost cheekily, but it was also cute enough that Kyungsoo didn’t mind. 

 

“Hello,” Kyungsoo said uncertainly.

 

“This is Jongdae. He’s twenty-four, and I think he’s exactly what you’re looking for,” the worker introduced.

 

“Nice to meet you, sir!” Jongdae said, standing and bowing.

 

“Nice to meet you, Jongdae. I’m Kyungsoo.” He turned back to the staff member. “How much is he?”

 

The staff pointed to a sign by the door. _Not bad,_ Kyungsoo thought. _And since he has good training, and he seems nice, and he’s very pretty._

 

“I’ll take him, then.”

 

Jongdae’s eyes lit up. “Really? I mean, not that it’s bad here or something, it’s just that—I’m sorry. I talk a lot.”

 

“It’s… fine,” Kyungsoo said, a little confused. 

 

The worker helped Jongdae gather his things. “Would you like to purchase a collar for him as well?” he asked Kyungsoo.

 

“Do you like collars, Jongdae?” Kyungsoo asked. He would like to buy one, but if it made Jongdae uncomfortable, then he wouldn’t do it.

 

“Y-yes, sir,” Jongdae said in a more subdued tone. “I do.”

 

“Then I’ll buy one.”

 

“They’re on a wall in the front.” The staff member gestured for them to follow him. “The ones on the left are less expensive and the ones on the right are more expensive."

 

The ones on the right were a little gaudy, in Kyungsoo’s opinion. “Can I get a leather one with the ring in the middle?”

 

“What color?”

 

“Um, Jongdae? What color?”

 

“I get to choose?” When Kyungsoo nodded, Jongdae smiled happily. “Thank you, sir! Um… the blue one?”

 

And so, Kyungsoo paid for a royal blue collar and a smiling toy and, with a reminder from the staff member that he had 30 days to return Jongdae, the two of them were on their way home.

 

“So…” Kyungsoo said once they had gotten all of Jongdae’s things inside. “I cook a lot, so usually when I’m home I’m busy with that. I’ll be sure to make time for you, though—” He reached out to touch Jongdae’s hair lightly. “How could I not?”

 

Jongdae blushed faintly. “Thank you, sir.”

 

“Do—do you want to make some rules or something?”

 

“Sure,” Jongdae said almost shyly.

 

“Here, let’s write them down.” Kyungsoo grabbed a pen and a pad of paper, sitting down at the dinner table and gesturing to Jongdae to sit as well. “How about you suggest rules and then I’ll kind of edit them if I need to?”

 

“Okay. Um… If I’m good, I can sleep at the foot of your bed, but if I’m bad, I sleep on the floor?”

 

“I’ll put down some blankets on the floor, though,” Kyungsoo agreed, writing it down.

 

“I don’t get to come till you say so,” Jongdae ticked off on his fingers as he went. “I can’t touch myself unless you give me express permission. At meals, I’ll kneel by your chair—if I’ve been bad, you’ll just give me a dish to eat from, but if I’ve been good, will you feed me the finger-food type things?”

 

“Sounds good,” Kyungsoo said.

 

“I’m okay with any kind of punishment,” Jongdae chirped next, almost bragging. “Spankings are my favorite, so maybe those will be for minor things—but I’m okay with anything. Choking is fine, slapping—bruises are nice because marks make me feel special. Is that okay?”

 

Kyungsoo nodded, writing it down as well. “There are two things I will not use as punishment: emotional neglect and neglect of your needs. Which means I won’t just ignore you, or leave you outside or not let you into my room, and I won’t starve you or limit your water intake. I want you to be healthy, which means you have to promise to eat, okay?”

 

“I promise,” Jongdae said cheerfully. “Sh-should we have a rule that I can’t talk to anybody unless I have your permission?”

 

“Do you want that?”

 

Jongdae nodded.

 

“Good, because I do too,” Kyungsoo said honestly. “I don’t know you that well yet, but I get jealous easily.”

 

“I’m okay with that,” Jongdae said shyly.

 

“Is this list okay, then?” Kyungsoo jumped. “Oh wait, one more: If you ever don’t want to—to have sex, you know, you can just tell me. I mean it. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, okay? So I’ll always ask you first, and you can say no.”

 

“Okay,” Jongdae agreed. 

 

“Sign the bottom. It’s an official agreement.” Kyungsoo handed Jongdae the pen and pointed to the place next to where he had signed his own name.

 

Jongdae giggled and signed where Kyungsoo had pointed.

 

“I’ll put this on the fridge, okay? So we can see it.”

 

“Okay,” Jongdae agreed.

 

* * *

 

One week later, Kyungsoo could easily say that his life had been turned upside down. Every morning, he woke up to a bright-eyed toy in his bed, and every evening, Jongdae was always there to greet him when he got home. And Jongdae was so good and, moreover, he really seemed to like Kyungsoo. Maybe it was just that he was cheerful by nature, but he always seemed to have more smiles to give Kyungsoo.

 

Jongdae was kind of useless at cooking, but one thing he did take to were these large, flat, wooden rice paddles used for scraping rice out of the cooker. Which is to say, they were his favorite thing to be spanked with, after Kyungsoo’s hands. Kyungsoo had bent him over the kitchen table one night after he’d been talking back and gave him ten sharp smacks. Jongdae had cried his apologies, and Kyungsoo had, of course, immediately forgiven him. He had also left deep fingerprint bruises on Jongdae’s forearms from where he’d pinned him to the table afterward.

 

And so, life went on with some little bumps along the way as Kyungsoo got used to being in charge of someone else. He still cooked too much, even with an extra mouth to feed, and he still had the reputation of a hard ass. But Jongdae at least seemed to acknowledge the gentler side of Kyungsoo—which, if he thought about it, didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but he wasn’t about it question it.

 

“Dude,” Minseok said to Kyungsoo during lunch. “Are you sure you’re not hiding some secret professional cook in your house?” He pointed to the meat dish Kyungsoo had brought to share. “This is phenomenal."

 

Kyungsoo laughed. “Dae asked the same thing. No, no secret cooks. Just me.” 

 

“Who’s Dae?” Sehun asked curiously.

 

_Ah, fuck._ Kyungsoo flushed. “He’s, uh, he’s my toy.”

 

“Since when!” Kris jumped up, excited.

 

“Since like, I dunno, a week and a half ago,” Kyungsoo answered uncomfortably. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. You guys are making a big fuss now.”

 

“No big fusses,” Yixing promised him.

 

“What’s he like?” Junmyeon asked.

 

“His name is Jongdae, and he’s sweet but kind of sassy,” Kyungsoo said.

 

“I can’t believe Kyungsoo got a toy and didn’t tell us!” Sehun crowed.

 

Kyungsoo threw a highlighter at him. “No big fusses!”

 

Sehun looked incredibly affronted, holding up the highlighter, which had bounced painlessly off his shoulder and onto his desk. “Hyung, how could you?”

 

Kyungsoo only glared. “Next time, it’ll be the stapler, you hear?"

 

* * *

 

Just like every evening, Jongdae was waiting for Kyungsoo just a few steps into the door on his knees. 

 

"Hey, doll," Kyungsoo murmured, petting Jongdae's hair affectionately as he hung his coat up. "Up," he said, holding out a hand for Jongdae to pull him to his feet. 

 

"Did you have a good day, sir?" Jongdae asked. 

 

"Yeah," Kyungsoo said. “Though I did let it slip that I bought you. As I expected, they were all pretty excited.” Kyungsoo brushed some hair out of Jongdae’s eyes. “This isn’t to say that I’m ashamed of having you, or anything. Just that they think it’s a bit out of character for me.”

 

“Is it, sir?” Jongdae asked.

 

“Perhaps,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m not sure. Were you good today?”

 

“Always, sir,” the toy replied. 

 

“Of course you were.” Kyungsoo gave him a fond smile. “Let’s see what I can do for dinner, hmm?”

 

“Sorry I can’t help,” Jongdae muttered, suddenly looking a little dejected.

 

“Help?” Kyungsoo looked at him in confusion. “It’s okay.”

 

“I feel like I don’t do anything for you,” Jongdae continued, trailing after him as they went to the kitchen. 

 

“What are you talking about?” Kyungsoo put down the bowl he’d fetched from the cupboard, and leaned back against the counter, folding his arms across his broad chest.

 

“It’s just that…” Jongdae fidgeted. “I’m supposed to be cooking for you, and cleaning, and waking you up in the morning and doing your laundry and helping you get dressed—okay, I do the last one, but it’s—it’s not enough.”

 

“Don’t be absurd,” Kyungsoo said. “I don’t want a  _slave,_ Dae. I got on okay before, without you. I can manage my own laundry. I have an alarm clock. And I like cooking. And you _do_ help me. You keep me company, and you make me laugh.” He poked Jongdae’s nose very gently with his index finger. “And you’re not a bad lay, either, believe it or not. If you think I’m having regrets about buying you, you’d better sit down and have another think.”

 

Despite himself, Jongdae let out a little breath of laughter. 

 

“The point is, my life was pretty okay before I got you. But you’ve made it better. You’re a net _good_ in my life, and that’s all I need. If you really want to help, though,” Kyungsoo added thoughtfully, “I’m making rice, but the pot is on a higher shelf. You’re just a little bit taller than me, do you think you could get it?”

 

Jongdae nodded, carefully reaching up for the pot as Kyungsoo turned to the fridge. Together, they cooked dinner. Though Kyungsoo still did most of the actual cooking, he had to admit that having Jongdae there to get him kitchenware from various drawers and cupboards, or stir something while Kyungsoo went to get the next ingredient, was very helpful, and it did speed up the process.

 

Jongdae stirred simmering sauce on the stove as Kyungsoo washed some used dishes. Dinner was almost ready and Kyungsoo glanced at the clock. It had taken only three quarters of the time it would have taken him otherwise.

 

He snuck up behind Jongdae and gently pulled him into a back hug. “You should help me every day,” he murmured. “If you want. It was a lot faster and a lot more fun.”

 

Jongdae smiled, the corners of his lips curling up and making Kyungsoo grin, too. “I would like that,” he said shyly and Kyungsoo’s heart did gymnastics in his chest. And maybe he was falling a little too hard, a little too fast, but he couldn’t help that Jongdae was just so likable.

 

After dinner, Jongdae offered to wash the dishes while Kyungsoo went to shower. By the time he was done, he found Jongdae curled up on his bed with a book. The toy marked his page and set the book aside when he saw Kyungsoo come in.

 

“I’m just going to sleep tonight,” Kyungsoo murmured as he moved about the room, putting things in order and turning off the lights. “If that’s alright with you. I have a meeting tomorrow morning.”

 

“Okay,” Jongdae said, He stood by the bed, waited for Kyungsoo to come over, and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek before arranging himself at the foot of the bed.

 

“Goodnight, Dae,” Kyungsoo whispered, settling under the covers.

 

“Goodnight, sir.”

 

* * *

 

“Dae?” For once, the toy wasn’t waiting for him just inside the door. Panic spiked in Kyungsoo’s chest as he threw his coat on the hook and quickly shut and locked the door. “Jongdae, where are you?”

 

He heard shuffling from upstairs and grew more concerned. _What if someone hurt him?_ Another thought made him pause. _What if he’s run away?_ He took the stairs two at a time (it was all his short legs could stand) and hurried down the hall to his bedroom.

 

Jongdae is kneeling on the floor beside the bed, head hanging and robe and hair disheveled.

 

“You scared me,” Kyungsoo said, relieved but still worried. “What’s going on?” His worry came off as anger and he _knew_ it, but he couldn’t stop himself from feeling sometimes. “Huh?”

 

“I’m sorry, sir, I was bad, sir, please punish me,” Jongdae whimpered, lowering himself into a formal bow, his hands clasped above his head.

 

“Why were you up here?” Kyungsoo demanded, pacing back and forth in front of the toy. “Were you using the bathroom? There’s one downstairs.”

 

Jongdae shook his head vehemently, bangs brushing the carpet. “No, sir,” he whispered. “I… I was touching myself—I know…! I know I’m not supposed to, sir, I know and I’m sorry, but I was thinking of you, and it’s been a while, and I was just so… frustrated, and…”

 

“I don’t want excuses,” Kyungsoo said coldly. Now that his worries were assuaged, he turned almost livid. “You fucking _scared_ me, _Jong_ dae, I thought you were hurt, I thought you were missing, I thought—” Kyungsoo swallows. _I thought you left me._ “And it turns out you were just breaking more rules. You were _bad_ , Jongdae.” He stopped pacing, standing a few feet in front of Jongdae’s bowed head. “You’re a bad boy.”

 

Jongdae gave a soft sob. “I know, sir, I know,” he mumbled, crawling forward as he spoke. “Please give me my punishment, please, I want to make it up to you, I’ve been bad, please—” 

 

He reached a hand towards Kyungsoo’s shins, but Kyungsoo slapped him away—not hard enough to hurt him, but enough that he got the message. Jongdae fell back and curled up on his side on the floor. Kyungsoo stepped over him, and a tiny bitter part of him told him to just leave Jongdae there, but he made a rule that he would never, ever ignore him, so he crushed that tiny part of him and went to dig through his drawers for handcuffs, taking a breath to calm down.

 

“At least you recognize what you’ve done is wrong,” he said in a more level tone. “But you have to have a punishment.” He tossed the cuffs on the bed and crouched beside Jongdae, putting his hand on his hair.

 

Jongdae hiccuped softly, jumping at the touch. “I know,” he whispered hoarsely.

 

“Oh, darling, did you really think I would just leave you?” Kyungsoo murmured, swallowing hot guilt. “I made rules, remember, and they were for me, too. We both signed it, we both follow them. I’ll never ignore you as punishment. I’ll never ignore you on purpose. Come on, get up.” Jongdae sniffled and allowed Kyungsoo to help him to his feet. He was still mad, but not enough to let Jongdae keep hurting like that. “On the bed. What do you think?” he added as Jongdae clambered onto the mattress, wiping tears from his face and flushed with shame. “A spanking, and a cock ring for when I fuck you rough?” Jongdae didn't reply. “Riding crop, or paddle? I’m asking your opinion.”

 

“Riding crop will be easier on your arms, sir,” Jongdae said contritely, head still bowed. 

 

“You’re right,” Kyungsoo said. “I shouldn’t waste too much of my energy having to re-train bad boys who should know better.” Jongdae winced visibly at _bad boys_ but Kyungsoo is still feeling too angry to care about it _that_ much. He turned back to his drawers. “Riding crop it is. Hands and knees, facing the headboard, ass up. I’ll give you ten for breaking a rule and five for scaring the living hell out of me. Count in your head. If you miscount, you get however many more that you were off by. Understand?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Jongdae said quietly.

 

Kyungsoo yanked the sash open on Jongdae’s robe and brushed it aside. The silk whispered over Jongdae’s skin as it fluttered down onto the sheets. Kyungsoo massaged Jongdae’s ass as he moved behind him, his other hand readjusting its grip on the handle of the riding crop.

 

“Remember to count” was all the warning he gave Jongdae before he brought the crop down on his ass. Jongdae gasped, lurching forward. Kyungsoo struck him twice more in succession, then paused to shake out his arm before hitting him a few more times. “How many is that?” he asked, a little breathless at how red Jongdae’s ass was already.

 

“S-seven, sir,” Jongdae stuttered out.

 

“Good. You have eight more.” Jongdae didn’t complain. Kyungsoo raised his arm again and lashed him again, and again. Jongdae gave a sob, but he quickly stifled it by biting down on a pillow.

 

“How many?”

 

“Nine,” Jongdae said, sounding markedly more wrecked. His arms were trembling and if Kyungsoo looked close, he could see tear-tracks on Jongdae’s face.

 

Kyungsoo nodded, and continued whipping him, occasionally alternating cheeks to even out the marks. 

 

On twelve, Jongdae pitched forward with a cry, shaking. 

 

“Jongdae,” Kyungsoo said sternly. “How many?”

 

“T-twelve. Sir.” Jongdae looked around back at him with red-rimmed eyes.

 

“You have three more, and you have to take them because you were bad and you have to pay for it.”

 

“I know, sir,” Jongdae said. “I know, I want to be good, I’ll be good.”

 

“You weren’t good,” Kyungsoo said seriously, meeting his eyes, and Jongdae looked away. He brought the tongue of the crop down on Jongdae’s ass twice, quickly, to make it pass faster. Jongdae tensed in anticipation of the last blow. 

 

“Jongdae, why are you receiving this punishment?”

 

“Because I broke the rules and touched myself when I didn’t have permission, and I wasn’t at the door when you got home and scared you,” Jongdae said dutifully, strain in his voice. “Because I was bad.”

 

“Absolutely right,” Kyungsoo said, striking him hard one last time. “There,” he said in a slightly softer tone. “All done.”

 

Jongdae collapsed into tears, and Kyungsoo absently rubbed his back as he tossed the crop aside (he could pick it up later), smiling a little at the repeated _thank you sirs_ from Jongdae. He pulled the cock ring from his pocket and flipped Jongdae over, kissing him and stretching it around Jongdae’s dick until it sat snug at the base (he noted that despite the spanking, Jongdae was still half-hard). Jongdae didn’t protest, just clung to Kyungsoo.

 

Kyungsoo lubed up a finger and slipped it into Jongdae’s hole, petting his hair and soothing him when he shivered.

 

“Am I good?” Jongdae asked, almost whined.

 

Kyungsoo was so soft for him, it was ridiculous—the lost look Jongdae gave him made him melt. “Yes, Dae,” Kyungsoo said. “You took your punishment well—” He added a second finger. “You’re my good boy. You made a mistake, but you can make it up to me.”

 

“I am,” Jongdae said quickly, brightening considerably. “I will, sir.”

 

“Good.” Kyungsoo added the third finger, feeling his dick twitch at Jongdae’s eagerness to serve, not really searching around for Jongdae’s prostate because this was a punishment and so not really about him. Jongdae didn’t seem to mind (he wasn’t supposed to) and he only squirmed a bit when Kyungsoo pulled his fingers out, leaving him empty.

 

Kyungsoo stepped out of his pants and boxers quickly, and lined himself up behind Jongdae. He slipped his cock in their place and pushed in harshly, not bothering to go slow. He fucked Jongdae into the mattress; he was going to handcuff him but it was too late now. Jongdae watched him, almost languid, as his heavy cock bounced against his stomach. He tilted his head back, putting his pale, unmarked neck on display.

 

“You want me to choke you?” Kyungsoo growled out through gritted teeth. 

 

“Yes, sir, please, sir,” Jongdae panted in reply.

 

Kyungsoo didn’t hesitate; he wrapped his hand around Jongdae’s pretty neck, and squeezed lightly, just enough to restrict his airflow. Jongdae let his tongue loll out, his eyes rolling back in his head as Kyungsoo, now with a better anchor, set a more brutal pace. 

 

“You were right,” Kyungsoo said. “It’s been, mm, it’s been a while. I should fuck you more often. That’s why you were bad, isn’t it, I just wasn’t giving you enough attention?” He took his hand off Jongdae’s trachea so he could reply.

 

Jongdae wheezed, struggling to answer. “No, sir,” he rasped. “You give me as much attention as you think you should, sir.”

 

“Sometimes it’s hard for me to believe you could ever be bad when you say things like that,” Kyungsoo said, fitting his hand back around Jongdae’s neck. “I’m so used to you being my perfect good boy—” Kyungsoo’s breath hitched as he said it; Jongdae let out a moan, “—that I was so shocked to find you breaking rules today.” Jongdae fought to keep eye contact, his face going deep red as breathing became more difficult. Kyungsoo felt shocks of warmth radiate out from his abdomen as Jongdae’s jaw dropped. “Do you want to come?”

 

Jongdae didn’t respond, but Kyungsoo didn’t expect him to. “Of course you do,” he continued after a few more thrusts, “you’ve been so patient. I’m— _ah_ —close, Dae, you’re so fucking tight—” Kyungsoo curled into himself a little as he spoke, feeling his pent up orgasm coming closer. He used the hand the wasn’t choking Jongdae to fumble for the cock ring. He tugged it off and put his fingers in its place. “Ready?” Jongdae managed a nod, and Kyungsoo could see his eyes slipping—he was really running out of air. “Come for me,” he said, still fucking into him, as he released his throat and cock at once.

 

Jongdae screamed, raw, and arched up into Kyungsoo’s next thrust, coming untouched in white streaks. In his convulsions, he clenched down around Kyungsoo’s cock and it was really all Kyungsoo could take. He spilled into the toy, clutching at his shoulders.

 

They were both still for a few moments and then Kyungsoo went to get washcloths to clean them up and some soothing balm for Jongdae’s butt. He spread it over him with care before fetching a fresh robe for him and flicking off the lights.

 

“I’m sorry for scaring you, sir,” Jongdae slurs out sleepily.

 

“I forgive you,” Kyungsoo says immediately. “I didn’t mean to react that angrily, Dae, but oh my _god_ , I was terrified. I was afraid you’d been hurt or maybe—maybe you’d run away—” 

 

Jongdae sat bolt upright from his position at Kyungsoo’s feet. “Did you really think that, sir? How could I? You’ve been so kind to me. I like you, I wouldn’t ever want to leave, even if you told me to.”

 

Kyungsoo sat up too and pulled Jongdae into a hug. “I don’t deserve you,” he said into Jongdae’s hair.

 

“Don’t say that, sir.”

 

“All right.” Kyungsoo kissed Jongdae’s forehead. “I don’t think I’ll want you to leave.”

 

“Even when I get old?”

 

“I’ll be getting old, too.”

 

“…True.”

 

“Don’t worry too much.” Kyungsoo gave him another kiss and lay back down. “It’s late. Go to sleep.”

 

“Yes, sir. Goodnight.”

 

“Sweet dreams, Dae.” Kyungsoo thought he heard the toy give a little squeak, but he wasn’t sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay ok I hope you all enjoyed it!! again so sorry for the delay I will really try to be better!
> 
> If you want to come yell or request things or be my friend, you can message me on my Tumblr [here](https://www.suhos-lotto.tumblr.com/ask)!
> 
> Check out my got7 hybrid!au fic [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7004479)!
> 
> If you like Exo, consider reading my heavy angst slow burn subaek hs!au [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7033417)!
> 
> Okay, that's all! Thanks for reading ^^


	6. Sekai 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am back... finally... I wish I could update this faster but it always involves smut and if you know me you know I'm literally the #Worst at writing that and it takes forever. ^^ anyway, here it be!

Sehun ordered different toys to spend the night with from time to time. I mean, fuck—he was still young and he was too shy lazy to go to an actual club. It was much easier for him to just pick up the phone, call in for one, and then get ready—maybe grab a bite. It saved him a lot of time. 

 

There was a new company that had an app, where toy’s profiles were listed. It included pictures, training, characteristics, and price, and you could order through the app. They were yours for the night, and the company would come pick them up in the morning (any time after 10am was extra). Sehun scrolled aimlessly, unsure if he was even going to do it that night because he was feeling kind of sleepy. Then, one picture in particular caught his eye. 

 

The boy (man? Sehun didn’t know what to call people his age) had beautiful, glowing bronze skin and pretty, thick lips, and sharp, dark eyes. His name 9or the name they gave him, anyway) was Kai. He was a year older than Sehun and had good training but “was prone to whining sometimes, with the occasional, small tantrum.”

 

_I can put up with a little moodiness when he looks like_ that. Sehun was wide awake, and stabbed the order button with his thumb. _Please don’t already be taken, please don’t already be taken, please—_

 

He wasn’t. Sehun breathed out a sigh, autofilling his credit card information and hitting submit. He couldn’t wait.

 

One hour later, Kai showed up on his front porch. He was wearing a dark pink robe, and he smiled at Sehun when he opened the door. “Oh Sehun?” he confirmed.

 

“Yes,” Sehun said, his mouth going a little dry.  _Fuck_. He couldn’t stop staring at Kai as he let him in. He usually didn’t think of himself as a clumsy or awkward person, but he was kind of feeling it now. All his energy went into not tripping over himself as he took Kai to his room. 

 

“How do you want me, sir?” Kai asked, and Sehun was surprised that his voice was soft. 

 

The name _sir_ snapped Sehun back into his role. “Are you prepped?” He knew he was, but he wanted to hear Kai’s voice again.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Good. Take the robe off.” It was rare that Sehun would return the toy without using it, but he always made sure to do a careful inspection before they began. He doubted he’d have any problems with Kai, but he had to make sure.

 

He wasn’t disappointed. Kai dropped the robe to the floor, and Sehun was overwhelmed with perfect skin. His body was a little paler than his face and hands and forearms, probably just due to natural sun exposure, but it was still darker than Sehun’s, and he absolutely loved it. Truth be told, Sehun liked it when his toys were tan. There was something gorgeous about the honey-caramel—it shimmered in the dark.

 

He tried not to let his delight show, but something (maybe the way his fingers twitched as he made a slow circle around him, maybe how hard he swallowed) must have given him away, because Kai smirked.

 

“Satisfactory, sir?” he asked quietly. “Or will you return me?”

 

“I’m not returning you,” Sehun said, trying to keep the scoff out of his voice.

 

“I’m glad, sir,” Kai said coyly. 

 

“All right, on the bed. Hands and knees, facing away from me.”

 

Kai did, in a way that Sehun couldn’t quite figure out. He wasn’t tripping all over himself to obey his commands, but it wasn’t like he was being slow about it either. _He knows how to use his body,_ Sehun decided.

 

Kai really was beautifully sculpted. He was toned, and he had a nice, prominent v-line. He had an ass that, Sehun had to admit, was almost as good as his own. Sehun gave the ass in question an experimental swat, and was pleased by the slight jiggle.

 

“Sorry,” Sehun said, not meaning it at all. “I just wanted to see how it would feel. That wasn’t a punishment.” He stepped back to shed his pants and shirt, and then forward again to run his hands lightly down Kai’s back. Without warning, he yanked the plug out of Kai’s ass and to his surprise, Kai didn’t flinch or react at all. 

 

_I guess he really does have top-notch training. This’ll be fun—how much can he take before he breaks?_ It was almost a science to Sehun—if someone as un-diligent as Sehun could dare align himself with science. 

 

“Ass up, head down,” Sehun commanded, grinning as Kai did exactly as he said. He didn’t give any warning, just grabbed his hips and pushed into him. Kai gave an almost inaudible grunt of surprise, but his position didn’t change, and he was quiet once more.

 

_Attitude where? Whining where?_ Sehun wanted to know as he snapped his hips forward again and again. Kai took all of it without making a sound, without shifting or complaining, even though Sehun could _see_ that his cock was fully hard, bright right and straining. _Nothing? Time to ramp it up, then._

 

Sehun hooked one finger under the back of Kai’s collar and tugged. Kai’s head came up until he could bend back no further. He watched the toy’s throat work against the leather, his face flushing. 

 

“You’re not going to thank me for choking you well?” Sehun asked, using his other hand to give Kai a sharp smack on the ass, a real one this time that would actually sting. “For fucking you well? Do you have gratitude?”

 

“I’ve had better,” Kai rasped out.

 

Sehun knew he was goading him, but he took the bait anyway. “You want more, you dumb slut?” he said through gritted teeth. “Fine.” He pulled out and dragged Kai backwards. The toy struggled for footing as Sehun kept walking before whirling him around and slamming him into the wall, wrapping his hand around Kai’s throat. 

 

Kai looked at him evenly, though Sehun noticed his eyes were watering from the strain. He tightening his grip, digging his fingers into the soft flesh on either side of Kai’s trachea. “You like it rough as possible, and you’re a brat till you get it, huh? Is that what the ‘whining’ note was about on your profile? I bet the only reason you haven’t been cast out to the streets is because people think you’re handsome.”

 

He pushed back in and began roughly fucking Kai into the wall. He held one of his legs up, his other hand busy with his throat. Kai clenched his teeth. Sehun wished he had about three more hands for spanking him—now he _had_ to get him to break. 

 

Abruptly, he dropped him, and Kai didn’t have a chance to catch himself. He crumpled to the floor. Sehun hit his cheek with his dick a couple of times. Kai seemed unsure if he was supposed to take it in his mouth, so he just let his jaw hang and his eyes close and waited for Sehun to tell him to do something. Sehun pushed him to the floor, reaching out for the sash that had been around Kai’s robe. He used it to tie Kai’s hands in front of his chest, then tugged him in front of a mirror and bent him over. He found a slipper and gave Kai a couple of full-strength spanks.

 

“That’s for acting like I’m not good enough for a dirty whore like you,” Sehun spat, adding a few more for good measure and watching how his ass turned a bright red. “Watch yourself in the mirror. Watch yourself fall apart, and know it’s because of me.” Sehun slid back in once more, fucking him into the floor. Without his hands to hold him up, Kai’s cheek ended up pressed into the carpet. But he did follow Sehun’s instruction—he kept his eyes on himself. 

 

Sehun continued giving him smacks as he picked up the pace. He hooked two fingers in Kai’s mouth, watching him drool over them helplessly. He yanked back on the collar again, twisting it until Kai was gagging against his fingers. When Kai’s eyes began to fog, he released the collar and reached around to jerk him off. 

 

“You can’t come till I give you permission. If you do, you’ll be sleeping on the porch in nothing but that pretty little robe,” Sehun threatened. He wasn’t actually sure if he was allowed to do that, but it was fun to say he could. 

 

Kai squeezed his eyes shut, and Sehun immediately spanked him. “You’re supposed to watch yourself, you stupid thing,” he said. He spanked him again. “Can you understand me?” He pulled his fingers out of Kai’s mouth.

 

“Yes, sir,” Kai replied. His voice cracked, and Sehun saw a tear leak out of his right eye. “I wanna come, sir,” he whispered.

 

Sehun grinned broadly. _I did it._ “That’s too bad, isn’t it?” he said, squeezing Kai’s cock. “You just disobeyed me, I don’t think you deserve it yet.”

 

“Let me make it up to you, sir,” Kai said, sounding increasingly desperate.

 

“How?” Sehun asked, digging his thumb into the slit of Kai’s dick. Kai screamed, but his eyes stayed open. “How do you want to make it up to me?”

 

“I don’t know, sir, anything you want, sir, please, _please—_ ” 

 

“What do you think I want?” Sehun sneered.

 

“You fuck me so well, sir— _please_ —it feels so good, you feel so good, sir, you know how to discipline bad toys like me—please, I _need—_ ” 

 

“Maybe you’re not so stupid after all,” Sehun said dispassionately. He increased the pace, gritting his teeth against the feeling, and began to stroke his hand up and down Kai’s length. “I suppose you can come.”

 

Kai let out a low groan, shuddering under Sehun’s hand. He kept his eyes stretched wide like Sehun told him to, even as he came, and Sehun felt himself giving in, freezing curled over Kai’s body, pressing him into the floor, his hands braced on either side of the toy’s ribs.

 

Sehun left him there on the floor and hopped into the shower, taking a quick rinse, drying himself off and getting into new clothes. He brought out a damp washcloth for Kai. “Since you were good in the end, you can sleep at the foot of my bed.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Kai slurred, wrapping himself clumsily back into his robe. He stretched and Sehun caught the redness on his neck—there would be fingerprint bruises there in the morning. He smirked to himself, flipping off the lights and settling under the covers. Kai’s weight dipped the end of the bed, and Sehun could feel his warmth at his toes through his blanket. 

 

* * *

 

Sehun woke the next morning to find Kai still sleeping. He couldn’t fault him—he hadn’t said what time he was planning to get up. So he decided to go down and start some coffee. He had one maid who could cook them some kind of breakfast—perhaps something like eggs and bacon and rice. 

 

He sat at the table, placidly sipping his coffee and waiting to see what Kai would do when he woke. He didn’t have to wait long—a few minutes later, he heard a thump his room and a small, muffled yelp. And few moments later, Kai appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, looking confused. He had taken his makeup off, it appeared, and his natural skin glowed in the soft morning light. The toy blinked sleepily as his gaze finally landed on Sehun.

 

“Sorry, sir,” he said quietly, and there was a gentle quality to his voice that hadn’t been there the night before. “I don’t know when to wake you.”

 

“It’s all right,” Sehun said, trying to still his flip-flopping stomach. “Have a seat. My maid’s cooking us breakfast. Do you drink coffee?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Kai replied, slipping into the seat across from Sehun.

 

Sehun didn’t know why he felt compelled, but he got up and poured Kai a mug. He waved away Kai’s stuttering protests. “It’s fine, it’s not like you knew where the mugs were. How do you take it?”

 

“Cream and a lot of sugar,” Kai said. There was a hint of embarrassment in his voice; Sehun saw him eye his cup, which was a nice light brown. However, Sehun hadn’t put any sugar in his and he was sure Kai could smell that. 

 

“I’ll bring the sugar, you can put that in yourself.” Sehun poured a bit of cream in and brought it back to the table with the sugar and a spoon.

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

“Let me see your neck,” Sehun said, settling back into his seat.

 

“Oh.” Kai lifted his chin and turned back and forth slowly. The skin was purpled and splotchy, and it bore the same of Sehun’s fingers. He felt pride flash through his chest, but at the same time he was a little worried.

 

“Do you want some ice for it or something?” he asked.

 

“It’s all right, sir,” Kai said.

 

“You’re used to it,” Sehun concluded. “Okay, suit yourself, Kai.” He cocked his head. “Yeah, hey, so is Kai your real name?”

 

“O-oh, um,” Kai stammered. “No.”

 

“Are you allowed to tell me your real name?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why have a stage name then?”

 

“My name sounds softer.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Kim Jongin.”

 

“It does sound softer,” Sehun agreed. “But it’s nice.”

 

Jongin blushed. “Thank you, sir.”

 

Sehun studied him as he drank his coffee (with two heaping spoons of sugar, _what the hell?_ ), watching how the light caught Jongin’s dyed dark auburn hair, how much softer his eyes seemed in this light, without the smokey shadow and liner. Even the sharp line of his jaw seemed less exaggerated. And for some reason, Sehun liked him this way, too. Huddled in his robe, slumber down a little and blowing on his coffee to cool it, he seemed much less like a slutty playboy and more like a sweet teddy bear. It was adorable. 

 

_Do you really like him that much?_ Sehun asked himself. _You know you don’t want to be like the old people at the office, tossing and turning over their decision to buy their toys and to discipline them—you should know when you want someone. This is knowing, isn’t it?_

 

His maid brought out their meal and Sehun gestured for Jongin to dig in. 

 

_He’s well-behaved,_ he reasoned with himself. _I mean, yeah, he talked back last night but it wouldn’t be fun if he was robotic. And he’s very handsome and very, very cute. And he’s young, so if I don’t do it, someone will surely snatch him up before long. That is, unless…_

 

“Jongin,” Sehun said. “Are you for sale?”

 

“W-what?” Jongin looked up from his eggs, nearly choking. “Um, yes, sir, I am.”

 

“Okay.” Sehun hurried to finish his meal. “Don’t worry,” he said when Jongin moved to get up. “Take your time. I’m going to go do something really fast. When you’re done, you can come back to my room, okay?”

 

Jongin nodded, and Sehun wandered out to his living room. He dialed the number of Jongin’s company.

 

“Hi, you’ve reached your local, mobile toy rentals!” a receptionist said. “How may I help you today?”

 

“Hello, I rented a toy for last night. His name is Kai, and I was wondering how much he is.”

 

“For another night?”

 

“No, to buy. Permanently.”

 

“Oh!” Sehun heard the receptionist clicking away, and then she gave him a surprisingly low price.

 

“Really?” Sehun raised his eyebrows.

 

“I mean, he is young and somewhat inexperienced,” the receptionist said. “I believe that’s why it’s lower than some of the other toys you see.”

 

“I’ll buy him, then.”

 

“Perfect. Give me your email—the one you use to order, and we can bill you using your account.”

 

After Sehun hung up, he went back to his room to find Jongin sitting on the floor.

 

“Jongin, do you have any belongings back at your company?” he asked.

 

“A few robes and a few books,” Jongin said. “Why do you ask, sir?”

 

“I just bought you,” Sehun said, trying not to be embarrassed or awkward about it. “I can drive you back over to pick them up—I told your company if there was anything you wanted I would take care of transportation.”

 

Jongin just stared at him. “You—you _bought_ me?”

 

“Is there a problem with that?”

 

“No, no sir,” Jongin gasped, “it’s just that—I mean, you don’t know me.”

 

“I think I’ve seen what I need to see,” Sehun said, giving him a dry smile. “What, you don’t want me?”

 

Jongin shook his head. “That’s not it—I do want you. You==you were pretty amazing last night. I’m just confused.”

 

Sehun allowed himself a brief moment of weakness. “Well, maybe you were ‘pretty amazing’ last night, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Please comment and let me know what you think! If you have any requests or yells, send them to my Tumblr [here](https://www.suhos-lotto.tumblr.com/ask)! 
> 
> If you like Exo and my writing and also heavy angst, check out my Subaek fic [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7033417). Read the tags first for any triggers~


	7. Krisyeol 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO HELLO I AM BACK  
> please read my note at the end but for now, please just enjoy!

Chanyeol was such a good toy. Kris already knew it, but it still hit him every morning when he woke to see the other man kneeling by his bed, head bowed so that the top faced Kris, bright red hair glowing gently in the early morning light.

 

As soon as he heard Kris shifting, the pattern of his breathing change, Chanyeol spoke. “Good morning, master.”

 

“Good morning,” Kris replied, as always, just because he knew Chanyeol liked hearing his voice after he’d just woken up.

 

Kris swung his legs over the side of the bed, landing softly on the cool floor, and stretched down to put a finger under Chanyeol’s chin. Chanyeol looked up at him, and Kris smiled.

 

“Did you sleep well last night?” he asked mildly, drawing his finger away, which was Chanyeol’s cue to stand.

 

“Yes, sir,” Chanyeol replied. “Thank you.”

 

“It’s Saturday, isn’t it?” Kris continued as Chanyeol helped him into a robe. 

 

“Yes, sir,” Chanyeol answered. “You don’t have to go to work today.”

 

Kris grinned. Then I can spend all day with you.” He didn’t look at his toy, but he saw him shiver out of the corner of his eye.

 

That was usually about as cheesy as Kris got. He preferred to remain aloof than always openly express how he felt. Kyungsoo called him tsundere. Minseok called him an old she-cat. Sehun called him a prick.

 

And maybe he was all of those things and more, but when it came to Chanyeol, his heart always melted a little. Not that he would let the toy  _know_ that, of course. It wasn’t proper, and also Kris was pretty sure he’d give Chanyeol a heart attack if he said anything of the sort.

 

“Shall we get breakfast?” he asked Chanyeol. It wasn’t really a question, just another cue for Chanyeol to follow him. “How do waffles sound?”

 

“Sounds good to me, sir,” Chanyeol replied demurely.

 

“I’ll tell the maids to get it started.” He turned and examined Chanyeol. The toy was wearing a dark purple robe today, one Kris had bought for him. On his knuckles were tattooed  _GOOD_ on the right and  _BOY_ on the left—a special gift from Kris a couple weeks before. When Chanyeol shifted his arms, the sleeves moved to reveal Kris’s fingerprints on his wrists.

 

“Is something wrong, sir?” Chanyeol asked, somewhat nervously.

 

“Nothing. I just like looking at you.” Kris ran his fingers over Chanyeol’s collar (black leather with one silver plate in the middle; engraved were Kris’s Chinese initials,  _WYF_ ). Chanyeol tilted his chin up, exposing his neck to Kris. “You look good today,” Kris finally said.

 

“Thank you, sir,” Chanyeol said softly, a spark of happiness lighting his eyes.

 

They sat down at Kris’s kitchen table—that is to say, Kris took a seat and Chanyeol folded himself into a kneeling position by his side. Kris brushed his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair, absently, as they waited for the food to be ready. This was a treat for Chanyeol—he loved skinship, being petted, getting his tummy or his back rubbed. He had been very good last night (on absolutely perfect behavior, true to his training) and Kris wanted to reward him.

 

“After breakfast, I’m going to go shopping,” Kris said. “I want you to get rest. If you need anything, the maids will get it for you.” Chanyeol nodded. “We’ll figure tonight out later. I should be back around lunchtime.”

 

The maid brought out a plate of waffles with some whipped cream and syrup on the side. Kris tore off a bite for himself first, and then took a second piece and dipped it carefully in syrup and lowered it to Chanyeol. The toy took it gracefully, flicking his tongue out to catch a couple drops of syrup that had gotten on Kris’s fingers.

 

This is how these kinds of meals always were—one bite for one bite until they were both full. Chanyeol had a bigger appetite than Kris, somehow, but Kris didn’t mind spending the time to feed him. It was soothing, in a way, finger-feeding Chanyeol little bits of food, the toy sitting docile by his side, his soft tongue lapping up the syrup before it could make a mess on the floor.

 

After breakfast, Chanyeol helped Kris into better clothing and Kris left for his shopping trip. He was mostly just supervising some grocery things, and getting himself a couple of suits, but he also picked up a pretty green robe for Chanyeol and some rings. 

 

The sun was low in the sky when he returned home—he’d been out almost all day. He felt a slight twinge of remorse—Chanyeol must have been lonely. But errands are errands, and he had to do it.  _Tomorrow,_ he told himself.  _Tomorrow I’ll spend all day with him like I promised._

Kris slipped into his room. It was dark, so he tiptoed around to turn on a small, dimmer light. In its warm, yellow glow, he made out Chanyeol on the bed, curled up and sleeping, it seemed.

Kris got out of his day clothes and went to take a shower, trying to be as quiet as he could. Once he was dressed in comfortable clothing for sleep, he carefully slipped into bed beside Chanyeol. Technically, the toy was to sleep at the foot of the bed, but Kris didn't have the heart to wake him. 

He propped himself up on an elbow and watched Chanyeol breathe. "I'm sorry," he whispered, half glad Chanyeol was asleep and couldn't hear him, half hoping he was only faking. "I've been so busy these past couple weeks, and knowing you, you must think that means I no longer want you since I haven't spent a lot of time with you." Kris paused, waiting to see if Chanyeol might respond. When he didn't, he continued, "I've finished all my errands and I promise I'll spend all of tomorrow with you."

He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Chanyeol's temple before settling down. But as he did, Chanyeol stirred. 

"Master?" he murmured sleepily. 

"It's just me," Kris confirmed. "Go back to sleep. We can talk in the morning."

"But I didn't see you all day."

"I promise, we can talk tomorrow. Right now we should rest."

"Yes, sir," Chanyeol said, but Kris wasn't quite sure if it was because he was settled on the matter or if it was just him reacting to an order. 

"I mean it," he said, turning over so that their noses were almost touching.

"Okay. Should I move to the bottom of the bed?" Chanyeol asked, unsure how to react to their proximity.

"No," Kris said, slinging an arm over Chanyeol's chest, pressing an uncharacteristically soft kiss to his jaw. "Stay. Sleep."

"Okay," Chanyeol agreed, and this time it was much more like agreement. He found a comfortable place in Kris's arms, and closed his eyes. Kris let his quiet breaths lull him into his dreams. 

* * *

The next morning, Chanyeol woke him as always. Kris pulled him back into the bed with him. 

"Are you hungry?"

"Ah? Not really," Chanyeol replied, sounding confused. 

"Good," Kris said, pressing a rather rough kiss into Chanyeol's neck. "What did you do yesterday?"

"Ate. Slept. Played games. Listened to music. Waited for you."

"I missed you." Kris yanked the sash of Chanyeol's robe open, and kissed down his chest, taking his time to leave some marks. "Were you good?"

"Of course, sir," Chanyeol said, and it sounded breathy. 

"Of course," Kris agreed, coming back up to kiss Chanyeol on the lips. Chanyeol gave a soft moan, and Kris smirked. "You're used to getting fucked multiple times a day, aren't you? Going a whole day without must have been excruciating."

"I was alright," Chanyeol said. "I missed you, but--it was okay."

"I'm afraid the next few days at work are going to be quite busy," Kris said. "I may not have much time for you until Thursday. So I'll make it all up today, how does that sound?"

"Perfect, sir," Chanyeol whispered. 

"Mm, good." Kris bit at the soft flesh around Chanyeol's clavicle, gently. "Undress me?"

It wasn't really a question, and Chanyeol sat up to carefully tug Kris's t-shirt over his head. He pushed the covers aside and pulled off Kris's light sweats as well. 

"No underwear, sir?" Chanyeol asked with a giggle. 

Kris pinched the skin of Chanyeol's left ribs, not hard enough to really hurt, just to play. "Too lazy last night. I saw you lying there, just looking so pretty. I wanted to be next to you as soon as possible."

Chanyeol blushed, and Kris reached out and brought him down to him, kissing him again and tugging at his hair. Chanyeol gasped when he released him. He was sort of diagonal across Kris's body, straddling his right thigh, with a hand resting in the bed on either side of Kris's chest. His hips twitched involuntarily; Kris knew his body was telling him to grind against Kris's thigh until he came. 

"Chanyeol," he said, "I have an idea. Today, you don't have to ask my permission to come. Or rather, this is me giving you permission to come whenever you want until the end of tonight--provided I'm in your presence. Agreed?"

Chanyeol stared at him. "But--really?"

"I said I wouldn't have time until Thursday. At the earliest."

"Okay. Thank you, sir," Chanyeol said, giving him a rather wide-eyed stare.

Kris grabbed Chanyeol's hips and moved them both further up on the bed so that Kris could rest his back against the headboard. He lifted Chanyeol's right leg and slipped his left underneath so that Chanyeol was truly straddling him. He felt the blunt plastic end of the plug Chanyeol always wore against the curve of his cock, and grit his teeth. 

"Go on," he said. "Ride me. I'll hold you up."

Chanyeol lifted his ass up, and Kris braced a hand against his chest so that he wouldn't tip forward. Chanyeol worked the plug out of his ass, and then rocked his hips forward so that Kris's dick was lined up again his hole. 

He clutched Kris's upper thighs as he slowly sank down. Kris had to smile--he swore nothing felt better than Chanyeol, like this. Chanyeol let himself adjust for a second before beginning to move. 

"Show me how much you missed me," Kris encouraged. 

Chanyeol picked up the pace, his own cock curled up against his stomach. "I missed you, sir," he replied. "I--I got hard just thinking of you but I didn't touch myself because I'm good."

Kris ran his fingers down Chanyeol's biceps, over and over, not really feeling for the muscle but more just for the touch. "Good boy," he agreed, and Chanyeol gave another moan and began to bounce faster.  "Did you really need this, slut?" he asked, a warm smile still on his face. "You're just so used to having a dozen different men use you every single day."

"I only need you, sir," Chanyeol panted out. "I only--only want you."

"Good. I paid good money for you, so you're staying," Kris said. “You're mine."

Chanyeol moaned again, louder this time. Kris knew how much it meant to him--though on the surface it seemed that Chanyeol was most comfortable as a fucktoy prostitute, with the emotional detachment and the knowledge that he was just getting used, Kris knew that Chanyeol was actually most worried that Kris would return him right before the thirty days were up. Kris had no intention of doing so, and frankly the sooner Chanyeol got accustomed to the idea that Kris owned him, entirely, the better for the both of them.  

It might be love, but that was a thought for another time. Right now, Kris was most concerned with keeping up with Chanyeol. It was true that Chanyeol was used to being allowed to come around six times a day, on average. Kris wasn't sure if he could even attempt that, but he was sure that he could find other creative ways to get Chanyeol off. 

Chanyeol's jaw had dropped, his chin tucked to his chest and his hands splayed clumsily across Kris's chest. His movements were more erratic now--despite top training, Chanyeol never seemed to have found the precise control over his body that other toys had, but somehow Kris found it endearing. He'd never say it, though--he was supposed to expect Chanyeol to be perfect.

Chanyeol clenched around Kris, and Kris's hips jerked up involuntarily. He dug his fingers into Chanyeol's waist, not on purpose but he knew it wouldn’t be a problem. Chanyeol liked being marked up.

Chanyeol’s fingers against Kris’s chest were, despite how tense his body was, still gentle. He was alternating between gasping out moans and clenching his teeth so hard is the skin around the bundle of muscle in his jaw turned white, moving jerkily, as if he was afraid.

 

“I meant what I said,” Kris managed to get out. “You don’t need to wait for my permission. I won’t be angry.”

 

Chanyeol gave a sharp scream, curling downward, shaking. “Sir…” he whispered. “Sir, please. Please.”

 

“You need me to say it?” Kris asked, surprised.

 

Chanyeol shuddered, and seemed to curl into himself even more—his hands and arms were tucked into his chest. “I’m sorry, sir.”

 

“No—don’t be.” Maybe it was love. Maybe despite everything—their supposed dynamic, the little games Kris played with himself inside his head—maybe it had come to this: that the last thing Kris wanted to see was Chanyeol hurting because of him. “Do you need to stop?” he ventured.

 

“No!” The sound came ripped from Chanyeol’s throat, forced out through gritted teeth.

 

“Do you need to come?” Kris murmured, running his fingertips lightly down Chanyeol’s shivering thighs.

 

“Yes,” Chanyeol replied and it was hardly a whisper. “Yes sir, please, sir—”

 

“Come for me, then.” Kris rested a reassuring hand on Chanyeol’s right knee. Chanyeol drew a sharp breath and began moving again and Kris felt himself arch back, gasping for air as he found himself ripped from a place of stale peace to some hot, white light.

 

When he opened his eyes, Chanyeol was on his knees before him, head bowed. “I’m sorry, sir,” the toy said quietly. “I made things difficult.”

 

“You just needed reassurance.” Kris put a finger under Chanyeol’s chin, guiding him to look up. “I’m not angry. I thought it might give you some freedom but I suppose… I thought wrong. It’s all right.” He smiled, watching Chanyeol’s wide eyes flood with relief and something bigger than that, something that matched the strange warm feeling in his chest. “You did well. Hey,” he added when Chanyeol nodded and ducked his head again. “Let’s—let’s go get clean, and then just sit for a bit. Together. You… we didn’t really see each other yesterday, at all. I’m sorry.”

 

“You shouldn’t have to apologize— ”

 

“Maybe not, but I’m doing it anyway. Some days, I’m busy. That means I can’t be around to tend to you. Don’t… don’t feel badly. I’ll always come back to you.”

 

“Sir.” Chanyeol looked at him, a little confused.

 

Kris waved it away, feeling embarrassed. “Oh, never mind. Let’s go shower. We can get some breakfast and then—how are you feeling about round two?”

 

“Sounds great, sir,” Chanyeol replied, grinning ear to ear, and Kris couldn’t help grinning too. 

 

_Maybe it is love. And maybe that’s okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading! I'm terribly sorry for the long hiatus. First semester in college kicked my ass. 
> 
> I have set up a buy me a coffee. I do not (!!) expect any of you to give me anything. If you can't spare anything or don't have a way to contribute or whatever other reason--it is okay. I get it, and honestly all I need are kind readers, which is what I already have a plethora of. That being said, if you DO have 3 bucks to spare, I would really appreciate it if you would. I am a struggling college student who runs on caffeine and love from friends she wants to spoil. You can Buy Me a Coffee [here](https://ko-fi.com/N4N47MXU)!
> 
> And as always, my [Tumblr](https://www.exo-ot9stan.tumblr.com/ask) is open for messages, requests, yells, life advice, anything!


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